Leones voladores
by Kaizen Kitty
Summary: Keith loses everyone dear to him, and then... he meets Lance.
1. A Discipline Issue

**Leones voladores**

 **chapter 1**

 **A Discipline Issue**

 **. . .**

There was a knock on Shiro's door. He lifted his head, pausing mid push-up, his arms bent at the elbow, bracing himself on the front knuckles of his fists, toes touching the floor, legs butt and back straight as a plank. His black tank top was drenched in sweat, his dull brown sweatpants itched at the ankles.

"Come in."

The door slid open halfway to reveal a slender small statured young boy with long black hair and large terrified eyes. Shiro frowned, he sat up immediately, his training routine completely forgotten.

"Keith?"

But the kid didn't respond, only continued staring at him with those wide greyish eyes. Setting his jaw, Shiro stood, walked the few paces to his door, looked out into the hallway: left, right, no one there. He slid the door shut behind Keith, and turned his attention to his younger pal.

"What happened?"

Keith slithered off to Shiro's cot, promptly dropped onto the covers and buried his face in his knees.

"Keith!" Shiro all but gasped, grasping at air with his hands, not knowing what to say.

"My life at the Garrison is officially _over_ ," Keith murmured into his knees.

Shiro blinked. Keith started to shake, tremors ran over his back in gut wrenching little jerks. No, no, this wasn't supposed to happen. Shiro couldn't let this happen, not to Keith! The boy had more than enough on his plate without this, this whatever this was. Within seconds Shiro sat by his friend on the cot and placed a comforting hand, well hopefully a comforting hand, on his friend's back. Minutes passed in silence. Shiro wasn't good at this. He wasn't good at comforting people, or dealing with... with feelings. It's not like he had much practice doing so either. There was a reason Shiro had signed up for space exploration at the Galaxy Garrison, a reason he got assigned to pilot the ship and protect the crew, tasks that had to be carried out with near military precision. He was no therapist and no guidance counselor. He wasn't supposed to talk about his feelings, he was expected to bottle them up. He only had a handful of friends, and none of them completely let their walls down around him... well, not until now.

It felt awkward keeping his hand on Keith's back. What if it wasn't helping? What if it only made things worse? He could swear he heard Keith sob into his pants, but the kid kept his face hidden and when he finally did look up, his eyes were dry.

"Thank you Shiro," the boy mouthed softly as the corners of his mouth tugged up in a pained smile, a fake smile, meant to reassure Shiro.

No no no! He wasn't the one who needed reassuring. This was going all wrong, why was he so awful at this? Shiro pursed his lips. How should he handle this? He didn't want to pressure the boy into talking if he really didn't want to tell, that was okay, but at the same time... at the same time he didn't want Keith to feel like he was all alone. He wanted to be there for him, he wanted to be a good friend.

Shiro dropped his arm from the boy's back. He felt cold. He stood, paced the room, and draped his Lieutenant jacket over his bare shoulders. He shot Keith a look.

"Is someone giving you shit?"

The boy blinked, then ardently shook his head. "No, no! It's all my fault."

Shiro couldn't help the faintly amused smile creep up onto his lips, he set his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side. "Now why do I find that hard to believe?"

"It's true!" the boy shouted, grey eyes wide and unblinking.

Shiro let out a long sigh, and lowered himself down till he sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at Keith. He didn't say anything, simply waited for Keith to start talking.

"This is it..." Keith said in a breaking voice, "I'm... I'm going to get expelled."

Shiroh shook his head dismissively, but remained silent, his frown locked on Keith's wide pleading eyes.

"Last night..." Keith bit his lower lip, squeezed his eyes shut. "I broke curfew and snuck into another cadet's room."

This was news to Shiro. He started, eyes growing wider by the second. What?

"Why would you jeopardize your future like that?"

The words tumbled out of Shiro's mouth before he could stop himself... he wasn't good at this. Keith's eyes shot open, a guilt stricken expression wracked his face.

"I... uhh... well," Keith started, a flush taking over his cheeks.

Shiro immediately regretted his earlier words.

"I just wanted to... you know... meet in private...," Keith hung his head. "But then the roommate stormed in and got mad at us."

Shiro let out a heavy breath... So it was like that, huh. Well he supposed it was bound to happen eventually, Keith was no longer a child, even though Shiro still saw him as one. He shouldn't be so surprised, really. How old had he been when he'd met Lilah on that Summer Break he'd spent at his grandparents' home? Sixteen? Fifteen? No, _younger_. He still remembered the forest and Lilah's sun tanned legs so very very clearly... she'd given him her number but then he never called, worried he'd say the wrong thing. When he finally did work up the courage to dial her number and not hang up, her warm voice had told him she was with someone else. He hadn't called her after that, though her number was still on his phone.

Keith's words shook him out of his childhood nostalgia.

"He said he would file a report," Keith said, clutching the covers on the cot in his bony fingers.

Shiro blinked. Wait a second... " _He?_ "

If possible, Keith flushed an even darker shade of red and refused to look Shiro in the eye. The Garrison would never let a girl and a boy room together. Their dormitories were even on different floors. So if the roommate of Keith's lover was a 'he'... then that meant... _Oh_. Shiro nearly slapped himself in the face. He was a moron, he was making a big deal out of it when he was supposed to be helping Keith. What a pathetic excuse for a friend he was. Keith started trembling again, his shoes scraping the floor.

"Okay calm down. No one is going to expel you from the Garrison."

Keith stilled, slowly his eyes raised to Shiro's and now they were wet with unshed tears. Shiro mentally kicked himself, but continued speaking, his voice growing more urgent by the second.

"You are their best student! Only the most boneheaded commander would expel his top student over a one night fling."

Keith's eyes went wide, but the tears didn't drop down his cheeks. He made a small choked sound, then whispered: "It's more than a one night thing."

In the same urgent tone Shiro continued, "But this is the first time it happened?"

"Yeah."

"Most you will get is a warning." Shiro tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Keith smiled back, a tear slipped from his eye.

"Just... don't do it again?"

Keith's smile fell.

"Not on campus," Shiro quickly added, frowning and letting his tone slip back to the urgent voice from before. "It's too risky. If you get caught, you can kiss your scholarship goodbye."

Keith blinked. More tears stained his cheeks and the fear returned to his eyes. Shiro wanted to slap himself again. But he couldn't help it, he was worried. He didn't want Keith to throw his life away over some guy he'd never see again. Shiro took a deep breath, he had to ask this. Maybe if he put this delicately?

"Okay, what about evidence?"

Keith knit his brows together. "Huh?"

In a calm steady voice, well, as calm as he could get it, Shiro pushed on. "Did you leave any... evidence?"

Keith cocked his head in mild confusion.

Ack, there was no delicate way to put this! "Did you clean up after yourself? Got rid of the condom?"

Keith's face turned bright pink.

Shiro coughed into his hand. "Condoms?"

Keith bit his lip.

Shiro stared at him for what felt like two minutes. "Tell me you used condoms..."

"We didn't have any." Keith shrugged, looking as miserable as Shiro felt.

"You both need to get yourselves examined in the doctor's office."

"I think we should be fine," Keith blurted out, "it's not like there was any penetration..."

Shiro could feel the sweatdrop that ran down his own forehead. Keith blinked, then clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Well as long as you got rid of all the evidence," Shiro went on once he could trust his voice to remain steady, "you shouldn't get into trouble. After all that snitch will have nothing to back up his claims. It's not like the Garrison will take any action based on hearsay. Especially if it's you."

Keith's brows tented. In an uncertain voice he mumbled: "So I have nothing to worry about?"

"Just..." Shiro sighed, "be more careful next time. The Garrison doesn't take lightly to violations of discipline. You will have to follow strict orders when you are in outer space."

"Yeah." Keith dipped his head.

"And Keith?"

The kid looked up till their eyes locked. Shiro gave him the warmest smile he could.

"I want you to know there's nothing wrong with being with another man... or ...wanting to be."

Keith's eyes widened a fraction as he took in Shiro's words.

"You're a fine young man, and this is very natural."

Keith's breath caught in his throat. "Are... you ...?" he said in a small voice.

"No," Shiro grinned, "I'm just attracted to girls... Have the pin-ups in my wallet to prove it."

Keith snorted, barely holding back laughter.

"Listen, everything will be better once I get back from the Kerberos Mission. I'll get promoted to Captain, and then I can help keep you out of trouble."

They both dissolved into a fit of healthy laughter, Shiro slumping his back against the wall and Keith doubling over on the cot. A number of tears still spilled from Keith's closed eyes, but Shiro knew the kid would pull through. He was strong enough, he would be okay.

 **. . .**

It didn't go quite as planned. The Kerberos Mission was declared a failure, with Shiro and all of the crew declared Missing In Action. Keith didn't sleep that night. He stayed up till dawn watching the news, and searching for more articles online, sitting up in bed, in the dark with only the faint ghostly green halo from his phone lighting up his pinched face, after his roommate had gone to sleep.

But all the papers said the same thing, they all confirmed the sinking sensation he felt in his gut: he would never see his best friend again.

Keith let his tears flow freely into Todd's bare chest. The hand in his hair made slow comforting movements.

"I just don't understand," he breathed, the skin visibly tensed under his hot wet breath. " _Why?_ Shiro was the best pilot we had."

"Is," Todd reminded him, "for all we know he could still be alive, stranded somewhere in space."

Keith looked up at his boyfriend's face. "Do you actually believe that?"

Todd's cheekbones went up, creasing his hazel eyes. "I want to believe," he admitted, hesitantly, slowly...

Keith felt fresh tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He had the best boyfriend ever. What did he ever do to deserve him? As the tears gushed down his cheeks, he pressed his lips against Todd's, staining both their faces in salt.

The night was cold. They snuck back into their dorms undetected, holding hands all the way till campus. The stars watched them with an icy glare. Todd's hand was warm, his fingers... soothing.

"Todd,"

The boy turned, sandy hair whipping about his face. Keith cupped his chin and kissed him slowly, deliberately on the lips. He pulled away too soon, pulled free from Todd's grasp when he wanted to bury his head in that chest again, to melt into Todd's warmth, Todd's comfort, wanted to make a nest there and sleep the pain away... he pulled free and hated it, hated every minute of it. But he was a Space Cadet of the Galaxy Garrison, and so was Todd, and they were supposed to be in their dorms right now, sleeping like babies... as if he hadn't just lost Shiro, as if every memory didn't hurt like hell, as if Shiro had never existed.

"I'll see you at lunch tomorrow?" Todd said with hopeful eyes.

Keith nodded and ran back to his dorm.

 **. . .**

A suitcase lay open on the narrow single bed Pidge had slept in since childhood, it was half empty. Looking around the childishly colored bedroom with luminescent stars stuck to the ceiling, Pidge wondered what else might be taken along, what else could be smuggled in without the Galaxy Garrison noticing?

"Katie,"

Pidge looked up. Mom stood just inside the room, by the door, and she held up a rather large parcel in her left arm.

"It's Pidge," Pidge said, taking the parcel without question and stashing it inside the suitcase. Damn, ...there was still plenty of space, even with the large parcel... what was in it, anyway? Pidge frowned, deciding to investigate this later.

"Oh right, Pidge," Mom said, now standing in the middle of the room, a melancholy smile on her weary face. "If anyone knows what happened to Matt and your Dad,"

Pidge stilled, the sweater wavered in Pidge's hands.

"Professor Montgomery would be authorized access. He's a friend of your Dad's," Mom looked off to the side, her mouth pulled tight. "Has been, for a long time... they went to school together." Then her eyes flashed and she looked her daughter in the eye again. "But I don't want you to contact him. It's too dangerous. You never know whom you can trust," she narrowed her eyes, "he could be involved in covering the whole thing up," she added in a lower voice.

Pidge stared at Mom... she looked so fragile, so broken... a shell of a woman ever since that damned Kerberos Mission had stolen Dad and Matt away from them.

"It's ok Mom, we'll find them." Pidge dropped the sweater inside the suitcase and placed a hand on Mom's arm. Without a moment's hestitation, Pidge was pulled into a warm motherly hug. They stood like that for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been that long. Something nudged Pidge's legs... something wet and cool... Pidge let go of Mom.

"Bae Bae!" Dropping to the knees, Pidge hugged the wagging dog tight, face buried in short fawn fur.

"That's right," Mom said, sitting on the bed and watching them both with fond eyes, "you won't be seeing Gunther for awhile."

"It's _Bae Bae_ ," Pidge said, scratching the dog beneath the ears. "Who's a little Bae, _you_ are!"

Bae Bae crooned in satisfaction.

Mom shook her head, still smiling. "Is that a word from that Korean drama I saw you watch last night when you should have been packing?"

Heat pooled in Pidge's cheeks. "No," Pidge lied in a steady voice that didn't change pitch nor amplitude, "I don't know what you're talking about." Pidge shrugged, flushed cheeks cooling down. "I don't watch K-dramas."

"Almost perfect," Mom commented, her expression schooled to that of a teacher, raised index finger and all... Pidge nearly snorted at that, despite feeling mortified at having been found out. "You screwed up when you referred to them as 'K-dramas'," Mom shrugged, her expression cracking, the seonsaeng mask slipping. "I've never heard that term before."

"Well... uhh, it means 'Korean drama'..."

Mom smiled. "Well obviously, but you said it with such confidence, it sounded like you used the term before."

With a sinking head Pidge looked at the floor. This venture was bound to fail, like last time... there was no way to infiltrate the Galaxy Garrison, Pidge knew it. This whole ploy was lost from the start, doomed to fail. But before Pidge could sink into a wallowing spiral of self pity, Mom's hand held Pidge's wrist.

"Promise to contact me every day?"

Pidge nodded, eyes closed, so not to see Mom's tears.

"If you can't call me for whatever reason, send me an encrypted message. I just need to know you're alright."

"Just... Mom?"

"What is it Sweetie?"

"If I disappear suddenly without a trace," Pidge chanced a look at Mom.

Mom's face was white like death. "I'll never stop looking for you."

Pidge smiled, faintly. "And I will call you every day. They may call me a Momma's boy all they like at the Garrison! I don't care." The faint smile turned into a defiantly broad grin. "Let them."

Mom's face warmed up. "I'm glad to hear you say that, because I also have some... less pleasant stuff to discuss with you."

Less pleasant stuff? Pidge frowned. What could be less pleasant than sudden disappearance with no way to contact home? Pidge blinked, watching Mom with a perplexed expression. Was Mom... blushing? Why?

"I know it's a little early to start using birth control, but"

Wait. What? So THAT's what was in the mysterious parcel Pidge had just placed inside the suitcase unwittingly. Ewwww! Pidge covered both ears, blocking out the rest of Mom's speech.

"Pidge? Are you listening?"

Mom's face was bright red. Good. She should suffer too.

"This is important, you need to know this so you don't accidentally harm yourself while using it."

Head shaking, Pidge walked away from Mom's stupid unneccesary sermon. "Nope, don't need to know. Not gonna use it."

Bae Bae followed Pidge out the room, tail wagging. And, after a beat, ...so did Mom.

Pidge groaned.

"Well I just thought you," Mom started, twisting her hands as she spoke, "I just thought you might not want to... have to deal with periods,"

Halfway down the stairs, Pidge came to an abrupt stop. Pidge blinked, then slowly turned to stare up at Mom, who was still very red in the face.

"while you're out there, pretending to be a boy."

Bae Bae barked playfully.

 **. . .**

A wide expanse of land stretched out in front of him: rocks, walls of red stone on either side of flat earth, and sand, sand under his high top sneakers. Keith shifted the satchel on his back, got his field flask out and greedily gulped down cool water that chilled his dry throat. He screwed the cap back on the flask, and hid it under his jacket, right above where his knife was strapped to his hip. He wiped his chapped lips with the back of his gloved hand, and looked out at the desert before his eyes. This was going to be his home now, he better get used to it.

He had never walked so far from the Garrison before... his legs were tired, his foot soles ached from when he'd stepped on that sharp stone two miles back. His escapades with Todd had been... _different_. They'd never made it beyond the main road and the shady motel just a stone's throw off the road. Despite himself, Keith smiled. Memories flooded his mind, he shut his eyes to the desert sun, and breathed out.

The desk clerk raised a hairy eyebrow at them and the banknotes under Todd's hand on the table... then decisively shook his head. "We don't hustle here. Besides, you boys look far too young."

Keith felt his face heat up. He was about to walk straight out of there, no looking back, when Todd placed another banknote on the table.

The desk clerk frowned. "Where you kids get that much dough?"

Todd glared at him, leaning forward till he was up close in the clerk's wrinkled face. "None of your business."

The clerk folded his hairy arms over his chest, studied them both critically, then his eyes darted down to the money on the table. He smiled. His smile gave Keith the creeps.

"Third door to the left," the man said, swiping his hand at the money. In a flash it was gone, replaced by a stained rusty key. Todd blinked, then carefully took the key between his long fingers. Keith followed Todd down the hall, goosebumps running over his shoulders and down his back... this place was giving him the creeps.

The bed... was not in a much better condition than the rest of the room, not quite what Keith had pictured. Three roaches scattered away when Todd opened the door. The first thing Keith noticed was the large hole in the window, like a brick had been thrown through... the window was pathetically held together by Scotch Tape. There weren't any curtains, and their room was on the ground floor. A broken lamp sat in a corner of the room. Apart from the bed, the room had no furniture... not that they needed any, but still, the lack surprised Keith. He sighed and sank down on the stained bed sheet. Todd nearly gagged when he found someone's orange pubic hairs in the folds of the blanket.

Keith reached out and ran his hand up Todd's thigh. Todd's breath hitched, and he grabbed Keith's hips, squeezing his butt. Keith grinned. The shabby bed didn't matter, what mattered was being here with Todd on their day off from the Garrison. He dipped his head down and planted a feather light kiss to the front of Todd's jeans.

Todd hissed, eyes fluttering closed, mouth half open, he hissed and tossed his head back, making his sandy hair sway sensually in the oddly filtered light coming through the Scotch taped window. Keith dragged the zipper down, slowly, tooth by tooth. Todd's hands slid into his hair, making comforting circling motions before settling under his mane, just over his neck hairs. Keith let his breath ghost over the front of Todd's loose satin boxers. He felt something tickle his crotch, and glanced down to see one of Todd's socked feet toeing his groin.

"Want me to stop?" Keith said uncertainly. He looked up at the sexy face Todd was making, and bit his lip. He really needed to get over this silly habit of biting his lip whenever he felt exposed, it gave him away too easily.

"No, no, keep doing that, please," Todd cooed in a drowsy voice. His big toe slipped off and he planted his little toes on top of Keith's fly. Right there, right where his... ohh... Todd's toes cupped him gently but firmly, just the right kind of pressure. Keith let his mouth fall open, and a throaty moan escape his lips.

"I mean," Keith looked into Todd's eyes questioningly, "do you want to take over?"

Todd blinked, then looked off to the side. "We don't have to..." his words trailed off to a soft whisper.

Keith grinned; he dipped his head down again and blew a hot breath over the front of Todd's boxers, making him shiver. The foot on his crotch jiggled, and Keith inhaled sharply. "What if I want to?" he said, loosening the string that tied Todd's boxers to his hips.

"Keith,"

He loved the way Todd said his name. "Mmm," Keith murmured against Todd's lower belly.

"I'd like to try... you know, having ah," Todd's breath hitched as Keith pushed the boxers off him. "Hah... having real sex."

A smile pulled at Keith's lips. "What isn't real about this?"

He licked Todd's pale circumcised penis. The foot on his groin pressed into him and Keith shuddered, something snapped deep inside, like an electric spark. He was hard. The pants started feeling a little too snug for comfort.

Todd's hands moved out of his hair and onto his shoulders, pushing him off. Keith frowned, his bangs fell into his eyes as he looked his boyfriend in the face.

"You... you know what I mean," Todd panted, cheeks turning pink.

Keith shook his head, prompting Todd to look to the side, avoiding eye contact.

"Hey, hey Todd, what do you mean?" Keith knew his voice sounded more and more desperate by the second. He couldn't help it, he wanted to please his boyfriend, but he... just didn't know _how_.

"Puh, puh-pennetrative sex?" his boyfriend stuttered, not looking at him.

Oh. The thing they had been avoiding for so long... Keith's chest deflated... he felt so stupid. Of course Todd would want that, and why not? If it hurt they could always stop and go back to what they used to do. Trying hurt no one. Keith gingerly fingered his fly, then crawled off the bed and stood to push his pants down. He kicked out of them, letting his black combat pants fall to the grimy motel room floor.

"I trust you," Keith whispered in a shaky voice, crawling back over the messy sheet, before locking lips with Todd.

He felt hands grasp his ass, and moaned in thanks, weaving his fingers into Todd's straight hair. Todd's tongue explored his mouth, rubbing up against Keith's tongue every now and then. Everything tasted of Eclipse Orange breath mints.

They broke their kiss, panting. Todd leaned in even closer and spoke directly into Keith's ear, voice dropping an octave lower:

"Who said I was doing the penetrating?"

"Huh?" Keith blurted out, sounding way too high pitched for his own liking. "But I... but I want you to... to do me," he muttered against Todd's neck, still holding onto, and stroking the back of his head.

"No fair," Todd whined in a lighter, playful tone. "The uke gets to lie back and feel good, while the seme has to do all the heavy lifting."

Keith's forehead landed on Todd's shoulder as he convulsed in a fit of laughter. "Who _taught_ you those words?"

Todd laughed with him, cupping and kneading Keith's ass through his tighty whities. "I taught myself, before I was born."

"Todd!" tears streamed down his eyes from laughing.

But Todd wasn't here. With a sigh Keith trudged down the small hill he'd been standing on, looking for a spot protected from the wind. Maybe behind those rocks there? Before he knew it his legs started walking in that direction. He'd set up his tent here, and figure out what to do next tomorrow. Man, he was exhausted.

As he knelt to hammer the tent down, he couldn't help his thoughts drifting back to Todd, and their parting words...

"Keith?"

The classroom doors slid open and Keith looked up from the unfinished breadboard. Todd stood in the door frame, in his pajamas.

"You still working on this?"

Keith breathed out and looked off to the side, his gaze rested on the electronics textbook. "We can't all be as smart as you."

He could hear Todd gasp. "That's not what I..." his voice broke, hanging in the stale Garrison air.

Keith stiffened his shoulders. He was about to snap, he didn't want to snap, not here, not right now, not at Todd.

" _Keith_ , it's just a simple assignment. It doesn't even count for the grade."

Footsteps moved closer and Keith steeled himself for the warm comforting hand that came to rest on his shoulder. Again, he heard Todd's soft calming voice, now directly above him.

"It's not worth losing sleep over. You'll get it tomorrow, and you'll ace your exam," Todd tittered the last part, "like you always do."

Keith shook his head. He looked up, his expression sullen. "You don't get it."

Todd's hand fell from his shoulder.

"I have been trying to figure this out for _hours!_ And nothing is working. If I leave this for _tomorrow_ , I'll grow _even more_ behind, and then I'll _never_ catch up to you."

Somewhere in the depths of his consciousness, Keith was mildly aware that his voice got progressively louder with each word he spoke. Somewhere deep inside, he was also aware of the shocked and _hurt_ expression Todd was showing him. Something deep inside Keith wanted to break down and cry, and be held close, enveloped in a warm embrace, and be comforted by those gentle hands.

Keith ignored the nagging voice and smothered it deep within him. All he felt was hate and anger, and hate, hate at Shiro leaving him, hate at the Garrison for _lying_ to him, hate, hate, hate... hate at himself for being so _pathetic_ , for being so _weak_.

Todd hugged him and Keith threw him off.

Todd fell to the floor and landed hard on his side. He scrambled up, rubbing his ribs. Keith's shoulders went slack, his mouth fell open but made no sound. His anger was all gone, replaced by a dull, numbing pain. And that nagging voice assaulted his head again:

 _'I told you so, why do you never listen. I told you ssso, you nevver lissennn.'_

Todd blinked, a tear formed in the corner of his eye.

"S- sorry," Keith muttered, staring wide eyed at his boyfriend's crying face.

Was 'sorry' enough? It didn't feel like it was... it didn't feel like _anything_ would ever be enough. _Fuck_ , what had he _done?_ That had been the fifth time he'd exploded at Todd in less than a week.

Then Todd said the thing that hurt him the most, the words that pierced right through his heart... leaving an unerasable, permanent stain.

"I love you," Todd whimpered between bouts of sobs, staring into Keith's wide, disbelieving eyes. "I love you," he said again, louder this time. "But I _can't_ keep doing this."

Keith's breath caught in his throat. He had fucked up, he had fucked it all up, he had fucked _everything_ up.

"I'm sorry," Todd sobbed, rubbing his face with his hands, shivering. "I..., I don't think us being together... is doing either of us any good..."

The floor might as well have cracked under Keith's feet.

"I... I love you Keith," his boyfriend let out a ragged breath, "that's why, ...that's why I have to break up with you!"

A beat passed in silence.

"I'm... I'm not making you happy," Todd sobbed, "I'm just making you mad."

That was not true! Keith tried to speak, to refute Todd's words, to say 'I love you' back, but his throat felt dry. All he managed to do was grunt in response.

"I... I think, this is... for the best." Todd clutched his pajama top, drying his hands. "A... a relationship shouldn't... be _this hard_ , ...should it?"

Keith nodded. "I understand." Why did his voice sound so cold to his ears? Why wasn't he crying? He wanted to!

But the tears wouldn't come. The tears wouldn't come to wash his shame away, to wash his guilt away. They didn't come until much later that night, when he was in bed, after having showered and eaten a late leftover dinner... Keith curled in on himself, face under the blanket, as the first tears fell. He didn't deserve a good boyfriend like Todd, he told himself. Todd would be so much happier with someone else.

"Keith?" his roommate uncertainly asked, "...are you crying?"

Keith ignored him. He didn't deserve a boyfriend like Todd, and he sure as hell didn't deserve his roommate's pity.

That happened three months ago. After that Keith completely fell apart, making dumb decision after dumb decision, which eventually led to his expulsion from the Garrison.

Keith shook his head as he lay there on his back, arms crossed under his head in a makeshift pillow, staring up at the slanted fabric walls of his tent. Walls that let light through... He closed his eyes and counted to ten, to one hundred, to one thousand... he opened his eyes again. It was a little darker now, but still he lay wide awake.

Absently he reached for his phone... the screen lit up his face. A tan face with an upturned nose, a mischievous smile and a pair of laughing cobalt eyes looked back at him. Keith rolled his eyes.

"Lance," he huffed.

No reception. Keith groaned, he should have known. At least his phone had enough battery to change from this ridiculous background image. He scrolled through his photos... his finger froze in the air. He set his jaw and said with absolute certainty:

"I will bring you back Shiro, no matter what it takes."

Then he shut off his phone before he ended up wasting more battery power, put it back in his pants which were folded up neatly along the tent's wall, rolled on his side and closed his eyes. He needed sleep, now! Instead, his head filled with images of a certain tanned space cadet who was too good looking for his own good...

Keith waited two beats before sneaking out of his room, careful not to make a sound. He heard footsteps down the hallway and quickly rounded a corner, pressing himself flat against the wall. Slow breaths, in, out, that's it.

"Patience yields focus," he repeated to himself, hearing Shiro's voice instead of his own.

The dimmed night lights were just enough to see by as Keith slipped through a maze of hallways, heading for the nearest fire escape. He bit his lip, remembering Todd teaching him how to disable the alarm set to go off once the emergency exit door opened. Even though they'd both agreed to remain 'friends', they hadn't spoken in two weeks... He shook his head.

"Focus."

He saw the red Exit sign light up ahead. Panting, forehead resting on the cool wall, he got his knife out from under his shirt. Carefully holding the alarm box in one hand, he pressed the tip of his blade into a slot screw and unscrewed the top panel. Phew, he swiped the sweat off his forehead. Now came the hard part: he hoped he remembered right which wires to disconnect... Just then he heard footsteps behind him, incredibly close. His fingers jerked, nearly yanking out a yellow wire.

"You know how to open this door?" a lighthearted voice asked softly.

Keith spun around.

"Whoa!" a boy about his own age raised both hands to protect his face.

Keith realized he was still holding the knife. "What do you want?" Keith sighed, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. He wasn't about to get caught _this_ close to freedom.

The guy lowered his hands, and mimicked his own displeased glare, settling his hands on his hips. "Same thing as _you_ , to get out of here."

Could this asshole just _go away?_ He was making too much noise. An officer on duty was bound to come by here soon.

"Can you keep it down?" Keith hissed, glaring and keeping his knife in the air.

But instead of backing off, the guy stepped in closer and gawped at Keith's knife. He gave a low whistle of appreciation. "Ooh, cool glowy blade! Where d'you get it?" He reached out to touch it with a finger.

Keith pulled his knife back. What a weirdo. "Who are you anyway?"

"What?" the guy shrieked in a higher pitch. "Quit acting like you don't know me."

Keith cocked his head to the side and looked him up and down. The only unusual thing about his appearance were the cyan capris he wore along with the standard orange Cadet jacket. He arched an eyebrow... was he supposed to know him? He couldn't recall anyone like this kid from his current classes. Maybe they'd been in the same group as first years? There had been so many cadets in freshman year, most of whom quit... Keith hardly remembered them all. After he'd been selected for Fighter Class pilot, he didn't have many classes with the Engineers, though he still had to attend the General Engineering classes along with everyone else... not that he paid much attention anyway. He mostly sat in the back and browsed articles about unexplained events on his phone.

"Are you... an Engineer?" Keith asked cautiously, lowering his defences.

The guy looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "No," he said at length, "I'm a _Pilot_ , we were in the same Flight Sim class last year."

Keith frowned, he certainly would have remembered last years' Flight Simulation class. But then why was this guy so hard to place? He scratched the hair behind his ear.

The other guy groaned. "The name _Lance_ ring any bell?"

Oh. _Lance_... that guy, the fuckup who got a grade _zero_ on a test that was designed to not let anyone fail, Keith remembered him now. The guy's facial expression soured along with Keith's.

"So you _do_ remember me!"

Keith rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for this petty nonsense, he needed to focus on getting that door open without setting off the alarms. Turning his back on Lance, he studied the mesh of wires again. Which wire was it? Keith frowned... red... or blue?

A voice spoke softly just above him, directly into his ear: "I think you should disconnect the red wire first."

Keith jumped, then glared over his shoulder at Lance. "Quit sneaking up on me like that."

"Sorry," Lance raised both hands in a placating gesture and took a step back.

"What do _you_ know about this anyway?" Keith hissed.

Lance shrugged. "It's just a hunch."

"Well your _hunch_ could get _both of us_ expelled."

Lance actually had the audacity to chuckle at that. "Naw, most we'll get is a warning," he winked, "especially if I'm caught with someone who has a perfectly spotless record like _you_."

Keith didn't bother to correct Lance, he didn't bother to say that his record at the Garrison was _far_ from _spotless_ at this point... "Well I wouldn't want the likes of _you_ to tarnish my perfect record."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Keith turned back to the alarm box, blocking out Lance completely. He stared at the mesh of wires. Think, what had Todd done last time they snuck out together? He recalled Todd's laughter, the way his hair fell over his face, how hot the Garrison uniform made him look... and cupping his ass with one hand. No, no, no, not about that! Keith forcefully tried to push the unwanted thoughts aside, out of his head.

"Focus," he said to himself, staring at the floor.

"Huh? What?"

Keith stilled, he looked up and saw Lance blink at him.

"Were you... talking to yourself just now?" Lance raised an eyebrow. "You _were_ , right?"

Keith glared at him.

Lance rolled his eyes. "Just cut the red wire already and be done with it, _Jeez_. Why waste time panicking, we could be outside by now."

"Nobody is _cutting_ any wires. Clearly you don't know _anything_ about this. This isn't the _movies_ , we aren't _burglars_ sneaking inside someone's apartment, we _live here!_ "

"Jeez Keith, _keep it down_ , an officer on duty could come by any minute."

"Shut up."

Before Keith could react, a tan hand reached over his shoulder and yanked the green wire out of its socket. Keith held his breath, Lance's hand shuddered, fingers clenching awkwardly around the wire.

Nothing happened. Keith sighed in relief, and so did Lance: a cool breath fanned Keith's neck. The LED light on the alarm box went dark without a sound. Keith reached out and pushed the door open.

Nothing happened. They slipped out into the welcoming cool of the night. Keith sat down on the low stone wall surrounding the Garrison yard. He let his hands trail over the lawn, blades of grass tickled his palms. Up in the cloudless black sky the stars twinkled down at them, beautiful, distant, mocking...

"I feel bad leaving you out here like this..."

What? Keith tore his gaze off the stars and frowned at Lance.

Lance looked mildly annoyed, his lips were pursed, hands buried in the pockets of his capri pants. He paused on the walkway to the visitor parking lot. "Come with me."

Keith felt his own eyes widen a fraction. "Why?"

"You'll get caught if you loiter about the Garrison grounds."

"I won't get caught!" Keith's hands knotted in the grass, "I've done it like a bazillion times!"

"Whatever, I was just being polite." Lance folded his arms across his chest. "Not like I want you around."

"Oh _yeah_ , that's _very_ polite," Keith grinned.

Lance's face scrunched up comically.

Keith snorted.

"Jerk!" Lance turned on his heel and stormed off to the parking lot.

Keith watched him go. Then, looking around to make sure they hadn't been spotted, he followed. He stopped at the edge of the parking lot. Lance was bent over a pale blue scooter, fiddling with the trunk box.

"Are you stealing that moped?"

"What?" Lance whipped his head up. "No! It's _mine_."

Scratching his head at where Lance crouched close by the ground, Keith approached him.

"Wear this." Lance tossed a light blue helmet in the air, which Keith caught in both hands.

Reluctantly Keith put the helmet on his head. From the corner of his eye he saw Lance dust off a black helmet and do the same.

Lance sat down and gripped the handles. Looking sideways he raised an eyebrow at Keith. "Hurry up. I don't have all night."

Keith shook himself out of his daze, and threw one leg over the bike. He sat down behind Lance, gripping the seat beneath him with both hands, fingers clenched tight in the fake leather lining.

"Hold on tight," Lance snickered.

Keith huffed. "Really," he sneered back, "how fast does this thing go?"

"Faster than your ass when it's on fire."

What? But before he could verbalize that in a smart quip of his own, the scooter lurched forward. Keith gasped as he was thrown back, nearly falling off the bike. He grabbed the air for something to hold on to, desperately digging his knees into the vehicle's sides. Wind pushed his hair into his eyes under the helmet's visor.

He grabbed for anything and finally his fingers connected with something soft and solid. Keith clawed his nails in, clutching the material, and _pulled_ himself upright. Phew, that was close. Letting go with one hand he reached up under his helmet's visor and swept his bangs out of his eyes. There, that was better. He put his hand back where it had been, and held on tight as Lance wheeled the moped into another steep turn. Wait... Keith blinked, staring at the matter his arms were currently encircling.

Fuck me! Why were the Gods _so cruel?_ Keith glared daggers at Lance's back, because now he definitely had his arms around Lance's waist.

Lance gave a shrill whoop as he sped round the bend. Keith rolled his eyes, _asshole_ , he couldn't wait to get off this fucking scooter.

Keith's legs were a little shaky when he finally did get off. He wobbled around the parking lot in a daze, took off his helmet, wiped the sweat from his face, patted his hair down till it stopped sticking up at odd angles. He barely noticed Lance take off his Cadet jacket, but when he did, he stared. Keith pinched his nose, raised an eyebrow, and gestured in Lance's general area.

"What are you _wearing?_ "

Lance gave him a shrug. "What? Never seen a camiso campesino before?"

Keith cringed. "No." And he hadn't _ever_ wanted to see one either, not on _Lance_. That _thing_ that passed for a shirt showed way too much skin. He tried to avert his eyes from Lance's lean supple looking pecs... good thing the nipples were covered, he didn't want _that_ image burned to his memory, no thanks.

"After _you_ ," Lance swept his arms toward a filthy looking backdoor that looked out on the deserted parking lot.

Keith walked through the door. It was hotter inside, and harder to breathe, a weird kind of smoke hung in the air. Keith tugged at his jacket's zipper. They walked through a series of dark hallways before they came to the main room. It was a big hall, filled with music, people were dancing. The guy behind the bar flexed his wrists and let the bottles spin in his hands before pouring drinks. Right away, Keith saw he was overdressed to this event.

"Umm, can I dump my jacket anywhere?"

"Coat check's right down the first hallway."

"Thanks."

It felt good to be on his own for a while. Keith weaved his way through the crowd, feeling the tension lift. His mind drifted along with the song's melody, which was oddly soothing. It _was_ a Rock song after all, an _eighties_ Rock song at that. The weird woman at the coat check wanted a dollar and checked him out when he took off his jacket. Keith felt naked in his tight black tee... did she know he carried a knife under his shirt? Could she see it? Why hadn't he worn something else tonight, something that wasn't so _tight_ , literally _anything_ else?

He cringe-smiled at the woman behind the desk and hurried back to the main hall. It wasn't hard to find Lance: the guy was dancing in the middle of the room, front and center. Keith rolled his eyes. Wearily he trudged up the dance floor, mingling with the moving bodies around him. Keith wasn't much of a dancer, he knew a few moves, but that was about it. The last thing he needed was embarrassing himself here, on a night he'd planned to get some time alone. The disco lights moved, making the blue patterns on Lance's white shirt shimmer gaily.

Keith kept his distance, he stayed close by the wall and moved a little to the music: tapping his feet and shifting his shoulders in what he hoped passed for 'dance moves' with this crowd. He started feeling a little self conscious when he noticed the people sitting on bar stools around the shaded edges of the dance floor. Most of them were significantly older, and, none of them were even dancing, yet their eyes were glued to the dancers. Were they here just to watch? How creepy. If they _were_ being stared at, Lance didn't seem to know or... _care_ , he flounced about in his navy plimsolls, showing off his bare calves. Before Keith knew what he was doing, he danced toward the room's center, his feet taking him to where Lance moved fluidly to the melody. A slower song came on. Keith looked about him, quick, as the swell of dancers started to clear. What should he do? How was he supposed to move to such a song? Keith tried copying the moves he saw around him without being too obvious about it. A girl raised her arms in the air and moved them in a complicated spiral form. Keith tried to mimic...

He felt stupid.

The guy closest to him performed a quick set of recurring steps with his feet, twisting his foot skillfully at the ankle, clacking his white leather dance shoes on the floor. Keith tried doing that, but it looked different in high tops...

He gave up, he was already sweating buckets under his shirt, especially at the place where his knife was tucked in his pants, cotton wrapped blade pressing uneasily into his lower abdomen. He settled on rocking his shoulders for now. His eyes trailed over the dance floor, over the lights, the outfits, the pairs sashaying in a quiet corner of the room. And finally, his gaze rested on... _Lance_.

Keith froze. No, _no_ way.

Lance swayed his hips to the music, rolling his pelvis in smooth thrusting motions... it was almost scandalous to look at, almost illegal to see. Keith glowered at a few women sitting in a corner of the room: they were _staring_ , and... _giggling_ , eyes locked on Lance's lower abdomen as his shirt hitched up while he moved. That was so _wrong!_ Those women were clearly _over eighteen_ , what were they doing, lusting over a _minor_ like that? And Lance was... _encouraging_ it? Keith's jaw dropped as he watched Lance give a slow seductive wink to those women, along with a sly lecherous smile.

The predatory way those women kept eyeing Lance was NOT normal. They weren't watching him the way you would behold a man... they gawked at him like he was a hunk of meat on display.

Keith shuddered. He weaved his way through the dancers until he was dancing beside Lance. Keith bit his lip, it wasn't really his place to say anything, it's not like they were friends... but he couldn't _stand_ the sick way those perverted women were ogling him. If their roles had been reversed, he'd want Lance to do the same for him.

Lance's eyes widened a fraction when Keith stepped up close, but he kept on dancing, not pausing for a second.

Keith worried his lower lip with his front teeth, then leaned in and urgently whispered into Lance's ear:

"Let's get out of here."

Lance blinked, then he _smiled_. Asshole had the nerve to fucking _smile_ at him! Keith was being serious, he was _trying_ to look out for him, and this... this _asshole_ was treating him like a _joke_.

"What?" Lance shouted gaily over the music. The smile spread across his face and now he was fucking _grinning_ ear to ear. "But the fun's just getting started."

Keith's face contorted in anger.

A hand came to rest on Keith's hip, ...Lance's hand.

Keith blinked. He was being pulled in close, even closer, till their shoulders brushed. Keith tilted his head to the left, putting some respectable distance between them.

"What are you doing?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Lance smirked at him. "The girls are into it," he said in a deep tone, then looked sideways. "See? It gets them going."

Keith quirked an eyebrow, he followed Lance's gaze with his eyes. Sure enough, in the dimmed part of the room, four girls had stopped what they'd been doing and were watching him... watching _them_ dance. Keith froze.

"Hey now," Lance drawled into his ear, "don't stop dancing, _come on_."

The hand on his hip pushed him away then pulled him back in again. Before he knew what he was doing, before he could piece together all events leading up to this, he was dancing... with _Lance_. A second hand settled on his hips. Keith put on a vexed frown and decidedly looked _away_ from his dance partner.

Another slow song came on... this one even _slower_ than the last. More dancers drooped off, until only pairs remained on the dance floor, along with one eccentrically dressed woman who danced alone, shaking her hips wildly. Keith bit his lip. Apart from him and Lance, no one else danced in the center of the room.

"Doesn't this feel... awkward?" Keith glanced sideways at Lance.

Lance blinked, then gave a small skewed smile. "It does feel a little awkward," he drawled in that same confident, deep tone which had surprised Keith earlier. Lance shrugged. "But I guess it can't be helped that you suck at dancing."

" _What?_ " Keith's nostrils flared. "I _don't_ suck at dancing."

Lance snickered. "Yeah you do."

Keith felt his face heat up, he was one step away from swinging his arm and landing one clean roundhouse punch on Lance's jaw.

"But it's kinda cute," Lance went on.

Keith's right hand clenched into a fist. He was _not_ cute.

"In a good way," Lance added as an afterthought.

Keith's anger deflated... his clenched fingers loosened. For a moment Lance looked at him in a searching way. Keith bit his lip again... _what?_ What did Lance want from him?

"Why don't you put your hands on my shoulders," Lance said. It wasn't a question. It didn't sound like one... he hadn't voiced it like a question. His voice remained steady when he said it, without inflecting up at the end.

Keith grabbed Lance's shoulders, making him gasp and jerk forward. He left his fingers there, keeping Lance in a firm hold.

Lance frowned, looking off to the side. "You don't do _anything_ halfway, do you," he muttered. That didn't sound like a question either.

" _You're_ one to talk," Keith grunted sourly.

He stiffened when he felt two warm wet lips encircle his ear helix. Then something pressed down, and up, squeezing his ear from both sides... _teeth_. Lance was biting him, nibbling on his right ear.

Keith felt his face warm, but for a whole different reason. Even before Todd broke up with him, they hadn't been intimate in _weeks_. His stomach dropped as though he were in zero gravity. He hadn't been touched like this in _months_. Was it... was it really okay... for him to feel this way, so soon after their break up? Keith bit his lip hard. Then again, they say the best way to get over someone, is to get _under_ someone else.

The hands tightened on his hips as Keith closed his eyes and lost himself in the music, in the rhythm, the low beat of the song, the sweet smoke that hung in the air, coating his throat. He let his hips make gentle thrusting motions, and pushed his chest into Lance's.

"Lance!" a girl's voice called out over the music.

Quick as lightning, Lance let him go. And just like that Keith was humping the air, alone on the dance floor. He watched Lance walk over to a pair of girls, and envelop the shorter one in a bear hug. The taller one, who was close to Keith in height, checked Lance out, letting her pencil lined eyes trail over his outfit, and nodded in appreciation.

Keith felt dumb just dancing there on his own, amid all those couples, so he followed soon after, hot on Lance's trail.

"You made it," the taller girl said, her hand on Lance's upper arm. He hugged her too, then leaned back and whistled, eyes zeroing in on her black crop top.

Keith rolled his eyes. He hadn't quite reached them yet, and now a faster song started, sending a wave of fresh dancers onto the floor. People pushed their way between him and Lance, he could barely see him between strangers' shoulders. Keith waded through a sea of gyrating limbs.

"We didn't know if you'd come," the girl in the black crop top said, offering Lance her drink.

He took a long draught of the orange liquid, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. The shorter girl wore a light pink cocktail dress with ruffles, and tightly held two purses in her hands: a white one and a black one. Both girls were bottle blondes.

Lance grinned at them, flashing his pearly whites. "I always come."

 _Oh_ he did _not_ just... Keith froze seven feet away and gaped at the group. _What the fuck?_ The girls _giggled_... fucking _giggled_. What sort of place _was this?_ Were they hookers?

"Lancey Lance," the girl in the pink cocktail dress whined in obviously fake distress, pushing her high ponytails into his arm.

Keith curled his lip in disgust. That... that _nickname_ , he didn't want to think about it.

Her eyes trailed over the orgy on the dance floor, and settled on Keith.

A cold shudder crawled over Keith's spine. The hooker was watching him.

Her lips brushed faintly against Lance's arm, leaving a glossy pink stain on his white shirt. She batted her fake eyelashes without taking her eyes off Keith, and whined in that same sing-song voice:

"Who's the new guy?"

She tugged on Lance's arm when he did not respond, too busy eye-fucking the other girl. After a while of persistent tugging, Lance finally turned his attention to her. She batted her eyes again, this time at Lance, and pulled a duck face.

She nudged his arm with one of her pony tails, "introduce me to your cute Asian friend," before moving her eyes back to Keith.

What, the, FUCK.

Lance quickly glanced at him, then turned back to the girl on his arm and showed her a pouty _'hurt'_ expression. "Anna, you _wound_ me. Am I not enough for you?"

The girl in the pink dress, Anna, batted her lashes innocently up at Lance. "Well... umm no, but..."

"Can't you see Anna? Lance worries we'll steal his boyfriend," the other girl teased.

A choked snort rippled from Anna's throat, Lance laughed it off good-naturedly. Keith stared at him, not sure what to think.

"Keith was my classmate last year," Lance said boldly, "we go to school together."

He winked and waved Keith over. After a moment's hesitation, Keith joined up with the group. He placed himself between Anna and that other girl whose name he didn't know..., facing Lance. He noted that Lance hadn't mentioned the Galaxy Garrison, or that they were Space Cadets... he had only vaguely referred to the Garrison as 'school'... which Keith supposed _was_ accurate, but also meant Lance wasn't very close with these girls, which sort of confirmed his earlier suspicion: these girls were hookers.

Keith shivered when Anna's hand landed on his bare left arm. He couldn't stop thinking of all the places her hand had been... Last thing he needed was catching an STD! Those couldn't be transmitted through skin-to-skin contact, could they?

Anna giggled up at him. "Aww Keith," she crooned, "you're so sweet." She cocked her head to the side and puckered her glossy lips. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes," Keith gritted out through clenched teeth, glaring at Lance. "Yes I have a girlfriend."

"I can totally see it," Anna sighed, tracing soft circles into Keith's biceps that made the hair on his arm stand up. "You look good," she added in a lower tone, "real strong and handsome."

What the fuck was her problem? Keith stared at the hooker. Why wouldn't she let go of his arm? What, did he have to pay her or something?

"Hey!" Lance shouted. "What about me?"

Anna chuckled. "You're handsome too Lancey Lance!"

An odd look of... _satisfaction_ filled Lance's face. Why did that make him so happy? He was paying these hookers to hang out with him... it's not like they meant a word they said...

"I'm Carmen," the tall girl in the black crop top said. She didn't reach out to touch Keith, but sent him a smoldering smile.

Keith turned his head and looked at her. Carmen was fairly tall for a girl. Now they stood side by side, Keith saw she had an inch on him, and she wasn't wearing heels. To be polite, he forced a clipped smile on his lips.

"Nice to meet you." Even though it wasn't, definitely _wasn't_ nice.

Carmen continued talking as if she hadn't noticed the edge in Keith's voice. "This your first night out clubbing?"

"Yeah?" Keith said uncertainly, looking the hooker up and down... wasn't that obvious? Was she just asking this to fill the time with pointless small talk?

"Anna and I didn't even know about this place before Lance messaged me online. It's my second time here."

Oh _, Craigslist hookers_. That explained a lot, but that _damned_ Anna still wouldn't let go of his arm. She held his arm in a clinch hold, her slender arms wound tight around him like a deadly viper.

Carmen set her empty glass down on the counter. "So you have a Tinder?" she said without missing a beat.

Keith quirked an eyebrow and Lance burst out laughing.

"It's a dating app," Anna explained sweetly, she let go of his arm and dug inside the white purse, pulling out a pink cased phone. "See? This is my profile page."

A glittery silver background lit up the screen, Keith squinted his eyes to read her bio.

"Do you... do you like my profile picture?" Anna asked shyly.

Keith looked at her. She was blushing!

"Do... do you think it looks good?"

Keith glanced back at the screen. Anna's hair was loose in her profile picture, tousled from sleep, and she wore a lot less make-up. He frowned, his mouth fell open... her bio said she was _sixteen_. He looked at her again, quickly. Yes, yes... this girl _was_ sixteen, he saw it now, without a doubt, he nodded absently to himself.

"Awww thankies!" the girl squealed, squeezing her eyes shut. "I wasn't sure it was a good pic to post online, cos of the bedhead and all," she gushed. "Wouldn't want to look like a slut."

Keith blinked, _wait_ what? These girls _weren't_ hookers? They had come here _willingly?_ What the actual fuck.

Anna made a face as sweet as cream. "But then Lance said I definitely should post it because it makes me look adorable. He said lots of guys would love it, so I did, and I'm super happy you like it Keith," she chirped out the last bit, rubbing her ballerina flats over the floor.

These girls had come here to get fucked. To get fucked by Lance.

Keith glared at Lance, he had never liked the guy, mostly for being a fuckup who couldn't even make decent grades at the Garrison and tortured everyone with his incessant attention seeking. But now he was... _seducing_ younger girls? What the fuck. What was wrong with him?

Lance leaned back, resting his elbows on the bar. "You people want any drinks?"

"I'll have a Cherry Coke," said Carmen.

"Root Beer for me!" Anna hopped onto a bar stool, flashing her undies as her cocktail dress rode up with the movement.

"I'll be using the restroom," Keith said tersely, "don't trouble yourself on my account."

Then he left. He couldn't _stand_ being there any longer, not with what he now knew. Keith stomped to the toilets, taking long forceful strides. With a sigh he rested his forehead against the cool bathroom mirror. Violet eyes stared back at him...

This was so confusing. All he wanted was to be alone with the stars, alone with the night sky. All he wanted, all he needed was a moment's peace, a moment's respite from the pain that ripped him up on the inside. He just wanted to be alone, he just needed time, time to heal. Then this _asshole_ came along and dragged him out to God knows where, and now he was wrapped up in this... this _mess_. Keith passed a hand through his hair. He pursed his lips and studied his reflection in the mirror: he counted five pimples, the bags under his eyes had a faint purple hue, and his bangs had grown out.

He hadn't had his hair cut since Shiro disappeared, he realized with a shock. How long had it been? ... _eight_ months already. Keith closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath. Time moved on, but for some reason, he _couldn't_.

Something slammed into the restroom door from the outside. Keith looked up, startled by the sound. He heard a girl's high pitched giggle behind the door... then the handle shifted, Keith jerked upright, and before he knew it the door busted open and a kissing couple stumbled in the men's room.

Keith froze and stared at them. The couple didn't even seem to notice him or his staring, they went on making out heavily, clutching each other's clothes. The girl had long messy sea green hair, pooling around her shoulders in waves. A sweet breathy moan escaped her lips, coupled by a grunt from the dude. She raked her pastel blue nails through the guy's brown hair as he pushed her back first against a bathroom stall. She scratched her hand up his white shirt, exposing his tanned and slender lower back.

Wait a second, was that...

" _Lance?_ "

The name was on his lips and out his mouth before Keith could think better of it. The guy whipped his head up, looked over his shoulder.

Keith swallowed thickly. It _was_ Lance, eyes half lidded, gaze unfocused, clouded over by lust, a fading flush on his cheeks.

The girl recovered faster. She looked from Lance to Keith, from Keith to Lance. A frown settled on her penciled midnight blue brows.

"Hold on," she said, "is this a threesome thing?"

Keith's mouth fell open. Before he could say anything, the girl continued talking.

"Because I'm not into those." She let Lance go and squeezed out of his grasp.

"Janet... no wait," Lance reached out to her.

But she was already gone. Lance turned a livid face on Keith, fists clenching at his sides.

"Thank you _Keith_."

He didn't sound very thankful. His white peasant shirt was roughed up and his nipples showed. Keith pointedly avoided looking at his chest.

"Who's Janet?" he said, folding his arms and leaning his bum on a sink.

Lance shrugged. "I don't know." He sauntered over to another sink and fixed his shirt in the mirror. "Just met her at the club."

"Oh is that what you do?" Keith rounded on him, thankful Lance's shirt was back on properly. "Different girl every night?"

Lance blinked at his own reflection in the mirror. "What about it?"

"And you," Keith cringed and made a wild gesture with his arms, "have _sex_ with them in one of these _stalls_ and then never talk to them again?"

Lance lifted and dropped one shoulder casually. "Well yeah."

"I knew it."

"What?" Lance turned fully and looked at him.

"I always knew you were a _fuckboy!_ "

A cruel smirk grew on Lance's lips. Keith's glare got hotter with newfound rage.

"Well excuse me, Mr. Asexual Serious, some of us have sex drives." Lance tipped his chin up. "I know it can be confusing, especially if your parents haven't told you about the birds and the bees, but girls have sex drives too."

"My parents are dead."

Lance's eyes went wide, his mouth fell open in a silent 'o'. Keith was long accustomed to that expression people always made whenever he brought it up. Setting his jaw, he looked away. He didn't need anyone's pity, his Dad had been a hero, he was proud of him.

"My Dad died in Afghanistan," Keith continued, looking at the floor, "my Mom left shortly after I was born. When my Dad died, the authorities reached out to my Mom, ...but they never heard back from her," he narrowed his eyes slightly, doing his best to ignore the clenching pain in his chest. "She wouldn't ignore it if she was alive... right?"

Lance didn't say anything. It felt like the air between them had changed, something had shifted, making everything feel heavy and a lot less comfortable. Keith wanted to restore that, to push their talk back to something simple, something easier to deal with.

He shrugged, a wry smile came to his lips. "I was a ' _Bottle Baby_ ', that's why I'm so short."

Lance only stared at him. Keith blinked, the smile fell from his face.

"I'm sorry," Lance said at last. "I didn't know..."

"It's fine. There's lots of stuff we don't know about each other." Keith puckered his lips, looking sideways at Lance. "Like... what's your favorite color?"

He regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth.

Lance gave him an odd look. "Favorite color? ...don't think I have one."

"Oh," was all Keith could say in response. A long silence stretched after that. Some random dude came in to use a urinal. Lance stepped aside so he could wash his hands. The guy left. The silence between them stretched.

Keith bit his lip. "Mine's red."

Lance looked at him, blinking in confusion.

"My favorite color, it's red."

Lance smirked. Keith frowned, what the hell was so amusing? Almost as if he could read his mind, Lance answered:

"You always do that when you're flustered," he touched his lower lip with his index finger, "bite your lip."

"I do not!"

"Okay, okay," Lance snickered, "that's a sore spot, okay I won't push it." His last words dissolved in a fit of laughter.

" _Asshole_ ," Keith muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Lance teased.

Keith shut his eyes. "Nothing, nevermind." He opened his eyes to see the last of Lance's chuckles fade to a smile.

Keith frowned, he took Lance in, everything from the navy colored plimsoll shoes to the cyan capri pants to the plaited leather bracelets carelessly fixed to his wrists, to the white peasant shirt with blue patterns that left very little to the imagination... He hated to admit it, but Lance looked good, and it was plainly obvious Lance was aware of this.

Lance looked back curiously.

"Why don't you," Keith started, not sure how to put this. "Why don't you just get a girlfriend to satisfy those..." Keith looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. "You know, ...urges you mentioned before."

Fuck this was awkward. Keith put on his bravest face and pushed on.

"It's not like the Garrison has an all-male policy..."

There. He had said it. Keith swallowed his fear down, gripping the sink tightly with both hands. Lance heaved a labored sigh. Keith held his breath.

"Relationshits are too much trouble to deal with," Lance said with a scowl.

Well _that_ didn't tell him if Lance was into guys or not, but he sure had a point.

"Yeah," Keith said, thinking of Todd. "Yeah... I know what you mean..."

Lance smirked. "Your girl giving you trouble?"

Keith frowned. "Whu...? What girl?"

"Didn't you say you had a girlfriend?"

Keith blinked in confusion.

"To Anna? One hour ago?" Lance hunched his shoulders and cocked his head. "I could've sworn you said you had a girl."

Oh fuck, that's right, he _had_. But that was before Keith knew who she was, back when he'd thought she was a hooker...oh _Fuck_. He couldn't talk his way out of this one, could he? With miserable eyes he looked up at Lance.

"I... _lied_."

Lance blinked.

Keith looked down at his red and white high top sneakers.

"I didn't wan't her touching me," he bit his lip in frustration, "so I lied about having a girlfriend in the hope she'd let go."

Lance burst out laughing.

Keith stilled, frozen in shock. _His_ pain, his very real fear and frustration was... was _funny_ to Lance?

Lance wiped his eyes, still smiling. "Telling _Anna_ you're dating someone has got to be the _dumbest_ way to get her to leave you be. If anything, it'll only make her want you more."

Was this _asshole_ mocking him?

Keith put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest up. There was no way he was taking _this shit_ from Garrison fuckup _Lance_.

"I don't _like_ her, _okay?"_ Keith yelled at Lance's stupid smiling fuckboy face. "What's her deal suddenly latching onto me like that? She didn't even ask me if I wanted her to touch me, she just _grabbed_ my arm and all of you expected me to be happy."

Lance's eyes went impossibly wide as he took in all this new info. Keith was aware he was rambling, was aware he was ranting, and that his voice ranged far beyond any audio level that could even remotely be considered polite in any way shape or form, but he just didn't fucking care, okay?

"If our roles were reversed," Keith went on, taking a furious step toward Lance, "if _I_ was _the girl_ , that'd be considered _sexual harassment!"_ he pressed his index finger into Lance's bare chest.

Lance stared at him in shock, then leveled a steely glare in return. "Jeez, what's your deal?"

"My... _my deal?_ What's _your deal?"_ Keith roared back, no longer giving a fuck.

"Oh _I'm sorry_ for taking pity on you and inviting you along to _have a good time!_ I should've just left you at the Garrison and let you get caught and _expelled_."

" _I_ never _asked_ you to take pity on me!"

"Well _I did!"_

They faced off, in each other's faces, chests puffed up and nearly touching. Lance brought his face down and Keith pushed himself up so there was barely an inch left between the tips of their noses. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Lance's face crumpled in anger. "No matter what I do, you're always finding creative new ways to one-up me, and doing _everything you can_ to make me feel _bad_ about myself! We know you're the best fighter _Keith_ , we _know_ you're the best _pilot_ , we _know_ you're the fucking _best_ , okay! You don't have to rub it in anyone's face. _Why_ do you have to be _such a dick?"_

What... the crock... of shit? Keith's hands balled to fists, he could feel the dagger dig into his stomach underneath his shirt, and for once he felt like using it. If only... if only it would shut up that asshole Lance McClain.

"Oh you think it's _easy?_ You think everything comes on a fucking silver platter and I _don't_ have to _work_ for it, do you? _Wake up_ McClain, we aren't living in _Candy Land_. If you want to be better than me _that bad_ , quit whining and _do something_ about it."

" _Everyone_ is working _just as hard!_ You don't have to be _mean_ about it," Lance crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. "Since you're _that far_ ahead of _everyone_ else, you could've tried _helping out_ the ones you saw struggling, or, _I don't know_ , skipped a year so you wouldn't have to be _weighed down_ by losers like me. But of course _you_ don't care how everyone else does, do you? You only care about _yourself!"_

The last words echoed in Keith's mind, striking a chord in him, deep inside. He felt hollow inside, helpless... like a drowning man, all alone. He didn't have any defense against these words, because they were _true_ , all true... he _did_ only care for himself... he bit his lip hard and the words broke tersely from his chapped lips, hot with angry tears that slid down his cheeks unnoticed.

"What else am I supposed to do? Everyone's judging me, you're all sitting around waiting for the day I fall! All you want is for me to slip up, to fail, lose it. You're all marking your calendar, counting down the days till I finally _crack_. Well I'm _this close_ to cracking, Lance, this close." Keith frantically gestured with his hands. "I've had it up to here. I'm done with this, all of it. If this is what it takes to be a space explorer, then it's not worth it, I quit!" he spat into Lance's horrified face. Then, a moment later, with the tears streaming down his face, Keith muttered: "...everything is _shit_ since Shiro's gone."

Lance caught that last bit. "Wait, you mean Takashi _Shirogane?"_ His voice sounded a lot softer now, like it had when they met this night in the Garrison hallway.

Keith looked up. Lance's blue eyes were wide, soft and... forgiving? Keith quirked an eyebrow, but nodded: yes, he'd meant Shiro. Takashi Shirogane. He just hadn't meant for Lance to _hear it_.

The guy instantly went starry eyed.

Keith gawked at him. What? What did he want?

"The guy is my hero," Lance crooned with half lidded eyes. "When I graduate the Garrison, I can only hope to be half as good as him." Lance clasped his hands in front of his chest.

Keith groaned. Everyone and their brother said they looked up to Shiro, then in the same breath they blamed him for the Kerberos Mission failure. _Some fanboys_ they were.

Understanding dawned on Lance's face. "Shirogane... was your friend?"

It took a few seconds to register that Lance hadn't blamed Shiro, he hadn't brought the Kerberos Mission up at all... Keith bit his lip, he dipped his head, sighing "Yeah..."

" _Fuck_ , Keith."

Keith looked up.

The other guy's brows all but reached his hairline. "I'm sorry!"

"It's not like it's your fault." Keith shrugged, staring at the stained bathroom tiles behind Lance. "You don't have to feel sorry about it."

"Yeah but, I kind of do."

Lance didn't say anything about the fact Keith had cried... or that dried tear stains still covered most of his face. Keith was thankful to him for that. He leaned over a sink and washed his face.

"Want a hug?" Lance said in a quiet voice.

Maybe Keith had rejoiced too soon. He went rigid under the water spray, the cool substance slashing off his forehead and drenching his hair.

"Shut up!"

"I'm not saying it sarcastically. Just... if you want to... you know, I'm here..."

"I _don't_ want to fucking _hug_ you in the men's room, _McClain_."

Well truth be told, he _did_ , but Lance was a tease, and Keith wasn't about to give him any more ammunition.

"Oh! Eh yeah... sorry, sure thing. Understood."

"I've been meaning to ask you," Keith said as he pulled his T shirt out of his pants to wipe his face with. His stomach and his knife were now exposed, but Lance had already seen the dagger so that wasn't an issue, and Keith didn't mind showing his toned underbelly in private, no, he didn't mind it one bit.

"Hmm?"

Keith grinned: Lance's eyes were locked on his bare abdomen. He tucked his shirt back in his pants. Two could play at this game. As if on cue, Lance looked away. Keith chuckled. Lance frowned at him.

Smiling while keeping eye contact, Keith asked, "What's this strangely sweet smell hanging in the air?"

"There's a smell in the air?" Lance lifted his head and sniffed.

"Yeah, it's kinda nice."

"Oh, that must be from all the weed they're smoking in the back rooms."

Keith's jaw dropped. What the hell. He'd been inhaling... _all this time?_ He stared in horror at Lance.

"Where the _hell_ did you take me _McClain?"_

Lance nearly fell over himself laughing. He clutched his stomach with both hands. "Do you wanna head back?"

"Yeah," Keith said, suddenly not in the mood. This was too much stupid for one night. He blamed it all on the drugs, all these weird fuzzy feelings for Lance that kept buzzing through his head tonight. They weren't his own, no, it was all the hemp's doing.

On their way to the coat check through dark hallways, Lance tried to bother him with shitty smalltalk.

"Anna is totally thirsty for you man, so if you ever wanna tap that, let me know. I've got her number." Lance grinned, flashing his teeth: they caught the glare from a stray disco light, and flashed in the dark.

Keith's heart went into overdrive. He had to get out of here.

"No thanks," he growled under his breath. "You can have her."

"Aww Keithy boy, no need to get jealous." Lance winked, wiggling his eyebrows. "I can share."

"Don't call me that _ever_ again."

Lance snorted a laugh.

"And thanks but no thanks, I genuinely dislike that girl."

Lance blinked, pouting. "But _why?"_ he whined. "She called you cute."

" _Yeah_ , I _heard_."

"So why'd you hate her that much?"

Keith stopped mid-walk. "She's fucking insensitive. Where does she get off assuming my ethnicity like that? I'm not even Asian!"

Pausing in his tracks, Lance studied him for a long minute. Keith gulped, it felt weird being stared at like this, like he really mattered to Lance. "You look Asian," Lance finally said.

Keith flailed his arms in an exasperated motion. "Well I'm _not_."

Lance shrugged. "You look like you could be Asian."

They walked on in silence. The woman at the coat check wanted another dollar before Keith got his jacket back, he put it on quickly. He felt safer with it on. Once they were outside, Keith zipped up his jacket.

Lance handed him the light blue helmet. "You better sit up front."

Keith buckled the helmet under his chin. "Oh. Why?"

"That way you won't fall off," Lance smirked and placed the black helmet on his head.

"I didn't fall off on the way here!" Asshole.

"Trust me, it'll make it a lot easier."

"Can you even steer this thing from the back?" Keith kicked against the front wheel.

With a grin Lance pushed his visor down and climbed onto the rear seat. "Sure, no sweat." He tapped the empty spot in front of him. "Waiting for you, _Keithy boy_."

Keith wanted to smack him. Instead, he crossed his arms and parked his ass down on the scooter's seat, as far away from Lance as he could get. Muffled laughter came from somewhere close behind, then Lance's hands shot out on both sides of him, grabbing the controls. Keith pushed his visor down and they sped off into the night.

He ended up falling asleep on the way back. He woke to insistent whispering near his ear.

" _Keith_ , wake up, we're here."

Keith stirred. He lifted his head from Lance's chest. "How long was I out for?"

"Not long. You should get some sleep back in your dorm." Lance smiled softly as he took off his helmet. "You're _so_ lucky we have tomorrow off. Imagine going to class in two hours."

Keith gaped at his new friend. "We were out _that_ long?"

"Yeah," Lance chuckled. "I don't even stay out that long normally."

A careful smile formed on Keith's lips. They both made it back to their rooms safely. Lance surprised him next morning by taking the seat right beside him at breakfast. Thankfully Lance was dressed normally in a plain light blue T shirt and jeans.

"You have a cell phone, right?" Lance said through a mouthful of cornflakes.

Keith cringed, trying to ignore the droplets of milk that sprayed liberally from Lance's open mouth.

"Yeah?" he said in a steely tone. Where was this going?

"Give it to me." Lance held out a hand.

Biscuits and gravy forgotten, Keith turned to look Lance full in the face. "No." Was this guy insane?

Lance rolled his eyes. "Dummy, not _forever_ , just for the moment. I'll give it back to you," he crossed himself, "I swear."

Keith frowned, dug into his pants pocket, and slid his phone over the table. He caught sight of Todd sitting at another table across the cafeteria. Todd looked back at him, then, with sadness in his eyes, looked away.

Keith woke to the screeching of eagles, and sat up straight, knocking his head against the ceiling of his tent. A scorpion crawled over his folded clothes. Keith ignored it, slithered out his sleeping bag, checked his sneakers, shoved his sockless feet inside, opened the flap, crawled out of his tent, stood and arched his back, looking out over the desert plains. A yawn escaped his throat. A wide expanse of red, dead earth stretched out in all directions, as far as the eye could see. He watched the scorpion scurry away.

In the following weeks he gathered scrap metal and wood, and built a basic shack to keep him cool during the day and warm in the cold desert night. He didn't know what to do about the scorpions that kept creeping in, looking for shelter.

After a few days of camping out there Keith started exploring the area around his 'base', mostly in search of scrap material and food. He couldn't tell what had originally prompted him to venture inside the caves overlooking the desert plain where he now lived, chalk it down to morbid curiosity. He stepped foot inside a cool dark cave, torch in one hand and knife in the other, on the lookout for wild animals. All caves he'd explored previously had been empty, but one could never be too certain... Keith wasn't about to become someone's lunch.

He traced his hands over the cave walls to maintain his balance. The passage became narrower the deeper in he went. For once Keith was glad he wasn't very tall. Bending his upper body and hunching his back, he squeezed himself through the tunnel, hands trailing along its walls, knife fixed at his hip, torch stuck in his mouth, between his lips.

What he saw next took his breath away. The tunnel opened up into a wide hall with a high ceiling. Flashing his torch light around him, he saw the entire ceiling was painted, covered in detailed carvings and complex geometric designs. Awe struck, he stared at the drawings, wondering if people had once lived here, ...how many? Why? And... _when?_

He traced the carvings with his fingertips, and drew back with a yelp. The carvings... they had lit up red.

Uncertainly Keith approached the wall again. This time he placed his left hand flat on the wall. The entire cave lit up in a low red light. Keith blinked, hardly trusting his eyes. He shut the torch off since he no longer needed it to see... this cave was _huge_ , bigger than the previous ones. Keith let go of the wall and the room was plunged into darkness.

 _Huh_ , so the carvings emitted low frequency light when in contact with human skin? What sort of material was this? Keith touched the wall and once again, the cave lit up red all around him. There was a larger tunnel leading away from the hall, larger than the one Keith had crawled in through. He went down it, hoping it led to an exit. His stomach rumbled. He had ten energy bars left inside his tent, wrapped in five layers of plastic to keep rodents away.

To his disappointment, the tunnel seemed to be a dead end. Keith was about to head back down his true and tried tunnel, when a pair of yellow eyes lit up in a dark corner of the cave. He heard a rumble. Keith's legs began trembling. He reached for his flashlight and snapped it on.

No, not an animal... a _machine?_ Keith frowned. What was it doing here? Had he stumbled on a top secret military weapon? He took a step back, then cautiously stepped forward.

The thing was gigantic. A large metal structure stood before him, with aerodynamic streamlined sides, decorated in blood red paint. Standing so close, Keith could hardly make out its shape or determine what it looked like overall. He supposed it could be a mining machine, used underground... or a machine that drilled for probes. Hell it could even be a new design from the Galaxy Garrison, and this could be their way of testing the probe drilling robot before they sent it out to Mars or some other planet. This robot could be dangerous, still, Keith stepped closer.

He reached out to touch the structure when a sudden jolt of electricity made him yank his arm back in pain. He hadn't even touched the robot, his hand hadn't even come close. Some, some _barrier_ , some invisible barrier had repelled him. Keith stared at the red robot in disbelief. No way. Had technology advanced _this_ far? _Humans_ could create force field barriers?


	2. Libre cayendo

**Leones voladores**

 **chapter 2**

 **Libre cayendo**

 _Myrrhine_ (fluor-spar = fluorite, and agate) vessels come to us from the East. The substance is thought to be a liquid which is solidified underground by heat, a dry, potentially fiery exhalation. Their value lies in their varied colors: the veins, as they revolve, repeatedly vary from purple to white or a mixture of the two, the purple becoming fiery or the milk-white becoming red as though the new color were passing through the vein. Some people particularly appreciate the edges of a piece, where colors may be reflected such as we observe in the inner part of a rainbow.  
~ Pliny, Natural History, Book 37.

 **. . .**

"And then we broke into the High Gravity training room, and Keith held watch while I rode inside the Human Centrifuge. Keith refused to let me go faster than 6 g, and didn't ride in the Centrifuge himself cos he said he couldn't trust me to keep the acceleration below 3 g. The man's such a pussy. And then we broke in the Robotics Lab, and held a Robot Battle! _I won_ , of course, my robot completely shoved Keith's robot out of the ring. And then..."

Hunk held up a hand. "I'm going to interrupt your masturbatory monologue about Keith."

Lance opened and closed his mouth like a fish. At least he finally shut up.

"Hand me the Verowire pen."

His friend complied. Hunk bent over the circuit board set up on their table, and with a gentle move of his hand, traced the Verowire over the paths he'd previously sketched with a mechanical pencil. He stuck his tongue out in concentration.

"Sooner or later one of you is going to get kicked out of the Garrison for all this rule breaking."

Lance leaned back, balancing his chair on its hind legs. "Naw, not gonna happen. Besides, it's not like I have a scholarship on the line."

"But Keith _does_."

Lance talked over Hunk. "I'll just sit out my suspension and repeat the semester if things get bad."

Hunk put the pen down and turned in his seat to look at Lance, whose eyes were wide shut in bliss. "You're doing this _on purpose?_ " Hunk said, incredulous. Sure his friend could be a little sneaky sometimes, but Hunk hadn't known him to be that _devious_. "Are you trying to get Keith kicked out? That's the plan, right? He can't come back if he loses his scholarship. He gets booted from the Garrison and you get assigned Fighter Class Pilot, win-win."

"No!" Lance sat up straight, rocking the chair forward with a loud knock. "Of course not!" he exclaimed vehemently, earning several stares from nearby tables. "I mean I hate the dick," he sighed, twiddling his thumbs, "but that'd be a dick move." He shrugged, the cheeky smile returning. "Besides, I kind of love this rivalry we have at the Garrison." He rubbed his hands together like a comic book villain. "Us both competing, neck and neck, keeps me in shape!"

Hunk raised both eyebrows. "What rivalry? You guys have like _one_ class together, that's General Engineering, and neither of you are very good at it."

A fond smile appeared on Lance's face. "You wouldn't understand. It's a thing between me and Keith, it's real."

"All I ever see you two compete on is who can break more rules."

Lance jammed his palms together. "Hell yeah!"

Hunk rolled his eyes and turned back to their _joint_ project... joint project he was working on _alone_ while Lance merrily chatted his head off about this thing and that, mostly Keith. Hunk grabbed the Verowire pen and added a few more strokes around the edges. There, done. "Hand me the soldering iron."

"The big one or the small one?"

Hunk adjusted the bandana on his head. "What big one? Lance, we only have _one_ soldering iron." He looked to his right, and sure enough, Lance was toying with their equipment.

Hunk groaned. "You know this is a _joint_ project, right? That means you've got to do at least _part_ of the work."

Lance pouted. "I _am working!"_ he said, talking with his hands. "I drew the schematic."

Hunk sighed. He'd have to do the entire project by himself, _as usual_.

 **. . .**

Lance knelt down and ruffled the large German Shepherd's neck with both hands. The dog leaned into the touch, wagged its tail, jumped forward and set its paws on Lance's knees. Its bark was so loud... Keith stood in a corner of the room, gripping his right elbow behind his back.

"This is a stupid idea," he said.

Lance looked up at him with round eyes and a childlike pout. "Why?"

"Do you have to ask that?"

Lance nodded.

Keith groaned. "Let me get this straight, at tomorrow's inspection, when the higher ups from NASA come to visit our academy, you want to release the dogs from the kennels?"

A wicked grin broke Lance's face. "Yes!" he shouted in glee. The dog on his lap responded with several barks of its own.

"And this..." Keith said in a dull tone, "is supposed to be... funny?"

His friend's shoulders drooped. The grin evaporated and blue eyes went wide again, lips puckered and brows tented pitifully, giving him the impression of a kicked puppy. "Well uh... when you put it like that..."

Keith shook his head decisively. He was _not_ letting Lance drag him into one of his crazy schemes again. "I'm out. I don't want any part of this. None of it."

" _Killjoy."_ Lance narrowed his eyes.

Keith huffed, arms crossing over his chest. "I'd rather be a killjoy than a retard."

" _Hey!"_ Lance cried out. The dog made a surprised whine as Lance jumped to his feet. " _I_ take offense to that."

A smirk came over Keith's lips. For all his jokes and easy-going persona, Lance was too easy to goad into anger. Which was what made it so much fun!

"Good," he said confidently, drawing out the word. "You _should_ take offense. It was intentionally offensive."

As Keith turned to walk off, back to the main Garrison building, he caught a snippet of the heated glare Lance sent his way.

" _I'm still going to do it!_ I'm pulling the prank."

"I don't care," Keith threw over his shoulder.

 **. . .**

It was chaos.

It was chaos and Lance _loved_ it. Women were running round screeching, trying to push away the dogs that kept biting at and tearing their skirts. An elderly man chased after a Vizsla that had run off with his wig in its slobbery jaw! The teachers shouted orders at the top of their lungs, trying to get the dogs to obey, but there were too many of them, running in all directions, and together they formed a large joyous pack of tame wolves, barking and wagging their tails.

Lance laughed into his hand from his spot on the emergency stairs. He had to admit, today's prank was a big _success!_ He wished Keith could be here, so he'd have a partner in crime to share the laughs with. The way those people from NASA kept running about, tumbling over the dogs, screaming, just had him in tears. It was _so_ good! Priceless.

"Call those dogs off, _right now."_

Think of the _Devil!_ Lance turned his head, and there, a few stairs higher, stood Keith.

"You have to admit, it's pretty funny," Lance said with a smug grin.

"You _moron!"_ Keith hissed, coming down the stairs till he stood on the stair Lance sat on, towering over him, hands on his hips, torso bent so their faces were but a foot apart. "The people visiting us today help _finance_ this institution. Without _their_ support, the Garrison is as good as _dead."_

Lance shrugged, still smirking at Keith's face. "They must have _some_ sense of humor. Besides, what sort of space explorers get frightened by a bunch of _dogs?_ Their faces man! Did you see their faces?" he slapped his stomach and fell back on the stairs, laughing.

Keith held out his hand, palm spread open wide. "Give me the key."

As his laughter fizzled out, Lance looked at Keith's hand. It was a small hand, with even smaller fingers, ending in rather pointy fingertips. Though the nails were diligently cut in a square shape, below the fingertip.

" _Now!"_ Keith hissed, pushing his small hand into Lance's face. "We are putting those dogs back where they belong." He shook his hand in front of Lance's chin.

Lance grunted, he dug into his jeans and threw the jingling keys into Keith's waiting hand.

"Get up." Keith kicked him in the side.

" _Hey!"_

"I _said_ get up already! You caused this mess, so you're helping me fix it."

With a strained sigh, Lance clambered up to his feet. They spent the next hour sneaking around the Garrison, Keith insulting him at every turn, Lance reluctantly whistling the dogs over, one by one, leading them back to the kennels. Slowly on the chaos inside the building died down, and a confused awkward silence took over.

Lance recalled the way that woman from NASA with streaks of grey in her hair had glowered at Mr. Harris, who cowered pitifully under her death glare, and showered her with compliments and assurances. The Galaxy Garrison wasn't normally like this, don't you worry Madame Very Important Person, we know how to spend your money. Lance had laughed _so hard_ at Harris' tone! It was _so_ different from the domineering bawl the man normally used in the classroom. Lance had Mr. Harris for his Space Med class. He blamed the man for the fact he hadn't learned _anything_ useful since this school year started.

Somehow Keith and him had succeeded in returning all dogs to their pens without getting caught. But their victory over the Garrison was short lived. Before long someone had called Commander Iverson, and a bunch of staff arrived on scene; all Third Year Cadets were called to the meeting hall, as per _immediately_.

Keith and Lance shared a look. Neither of them smiled. When they got to the hall they were ordered to stand in one line. Most cadets weren't wearing their uniforms, but some were. Commander Iverson marched up and down the line, glaring each cadet in the face. Lance gulped, stood up straighter and stiffened his shoulders as the Commander passed him.

"We _know_ it was one of _you_ Third Years," the Commander bellowed, his flight cap swaying as he walked. "All other years had class when the incident happened, and we checked the list of absentees." Iverson glared. "It was down to _zero!"_

A shiver ran up Lance's spine.

"Whoever did it is in this year. You would save us all a lot of trouble if you came clean right now. I'm waiting," the Commander tapped his boot on the hollow metal floor, sending echoes down the hall.

Lance glanced to his right. Keith stood way down the line, with a straight face that didn't show any emotion. Many students looked like this... others just seemed confused. Standing right beside Lance, to his left, Hunk pulled a bored face. Lance envied them all. He was in a state of panic, cold sweat running down his neck under his hoodie. He hoped his face and the rest of his body didn't give him away.

" _Well?"_ Iverson demanded.

It was silent down the line. The girl standing to Lance's right shifted from foot to foot. And then it happened.

"Who let the dogs out?" Commander Iverson barked at them, dead serious.

Lance blinked. This, this was too much. This was comedy gold! _More_ than he could have _hoped_ for when he came up with the prank. Iverson spitting those words out like... like he'd never heard the Baha Men song. Lance fought the smile that threatened to take over his face.

"I repeat, _who let the dogs out?"_ Iverson's beady eye scoured the line of space cadets.

Just when Lance thought this couldn't get any lulzier, an even-toned voice replied from somewhere to his right.

"Woof. Woof, woof woof."

Lance recognized that voice. _Keith!_

Heads turned and this time Lance couldn't help the smile slipping to his lips. Many other cadets wore similar smirks. Hunk and the girl standing next to Lance just looked confused. Keith's face was a stoic mask of complete indifference. Lance snorted, how could Keith be so... _cool?_ How'd he _do_ it?

Iverson whipped his head around. Obscured from the Commander's one-eyed sight, Lance laughed into his hand, completely losing it. Hunk shared a look with him, and also broke out into a smile.

"Think this funny, _Kogane?"_ stopping right in front of Keith, Commander Iverson glowered down at him.

A few more chuckles left Lance's lips before the laughter died in his throat. Just as the people around him were growing rowdier, laughs erupting all around, Lance sobered. _Fuck_ , he'd forgotten: Keith still had the key! If Iverson found it on him, then... then...! Lance didn't want to think of what would happen.

Keith kept his cool though, staring back at Commander Iverson with an effortless pokerface. He was frighteningly good at this.

"I did it, Sir. I let the doggies out to play," Keith said. Coolly he dug into his jacket, pulled out the key to the kennels, and held it up for Iverson to see.

Lance's head exploded. No! _No no no no no!_ He would _not_ let this happen. Without thinking he stepped forward, out of the line and spoke loud enough so everyone heard him over the chatter and general hum of laughs in the hall.

"He's _lying!_ He's trying to steal the spotlight. _I_ did it."

The laughter and chit chat turned into a hushed sound of surprise as heads turned to look at him, then everyone started talking animatedly again. Commander Iverson turned his stern gaze on him. Lance's shoulders drooped. He was in for it now, _big time_. But at least Keith wouldn't suffer for what he'd done. Lance didn't know how he'd live with himself if he didn't own up to this.

"What, is this a _Captain My Captain_ moment?" a mellow voice said from very close by, to his left.

Lance blinked, turning around... he saw _Hunk_ take a bold step forward, out of the line. What was he _doing?_ Lance's mouth fell open in shock.

Hunk's smile grew all the more excited. "You know, like V for Vendetta, do we all get to wear masks?"

Lance gaped at him. Was he... was he turning this into _a joke?_

Hunk let his eyes flutter closed, puffed up his chest, and placed his right fist over his heart, before loudly proclaiming: "I am Vee."

No. Fuck, no. Why was Hunk doing this? Couldn't people take him seriously _for once?_ He needed to set the record straight, the Garrison couldn't go on thinking Keith was behind this. It... it wasn't fair to Keith!

" _Silence!"_ Iverson roared and everyone fell still, everyone _but_ Lance.

"But _Sir!_ It was me," Lance said, talking over his fear. "I did it. I distracted the personnel, snatched a key to the kennels, snuck in this morning and set the dogs free."

Commander Iverson narrowed his one good eye. " _You?"_

Like a looming cyclops, the Commander approached... Lance gulped. Iverson stopped right in front of him and sized him up.

"What nonsense. You're not even capable of passing an Obstacle Course test. Besides, Kogane has the keys to the doghouse."

"That's because _I gave them_ to Keith!"

Iverson sighed. "Give up Son, it's admirable that you're trying to take the fall for your friend, but you aren't convincing anyone."

Lance's mouth fell open... and _stayed_ open as the Commander walked away.

" _Kogane_ ," Iverson boomed, "follow me."

Lance watched Keith leave after the Commander, not once turning around to look over his shoulder, chin high, chest puffed, back straight as a plank. Hunk's hand on his arm shook him out of it, and Lance registered the soft chatter erupting among the assembled cadets. The staff ushered everyone back to their rooms, even though it was far from bedtime.

Hours later, having taken a long, scalding hot shower and towel dried his hair, Lance was alone in his room. Hunk had gone off to dinner. Lance didn't feel hungry... couldn't get a bite down his throat, would be more accurate. He felt guilty. Very, very guilty. The sort of feeling when you just killed a man but they randomly sent someone else on death row instead. Okay, _bad metaphor_. But killers felt guilty too, right? On occasion. Lance sat down heavily on his bed and kicked off his flip-flops. He grabbed his phone as he spread out on his stomach, face buried in the pillow.

 **Loverboy Lance:** hey. u ok?

 **Ninja Keitaro:** meh

 **Loverboy Lance:** :(

 **Loverboy Lance:** thank you

 **Ninja Keitaro:** no problemo

 **Loverboy Lance:** why'd you do it? O_O

 **Ninja Keitaro:** honestly? im sick of this place.

 **Loverboy Lance:** :( thats not a good reason

 **Ninja Keitaro:** its the best reason I can think of. that and im tired of seeing ur ugly mug every day

 **Loverboy Lance:** hey!

 **Ninja Keitaro:** XD

He imagined what Keith's face looked like: solemn, on the other end of the line as he typed in the letters 'X' and 'D'. He'd never actually seen Keith's face crack open like that: eyes squeezed in an X, mouth wide open in a D. It wasn't an accurate rendition of how Keith _looked_. Maybe it was an accurate depiction of how Keith _felt_ beneath that cool veneer of couldn't-care-less? He had seen Keith angry to the point of crying... he _knew_ Keith felt things intensely... He just hadn't seen happy tears stream down Keith's face, or a smile as wide that it warranted an XD emoji.

 **Loverboy Lance:** 'XD' emojis? really? ur such a nerd.

He should've seen the response coming.

 **Ninja Keitaro:** XD

He had to bring the conversation back on topic. Keith was dodging, and secretly Lance welcomed it, but they couldn't keep ignoring this elephant forever. It was just too big...

 **Loverboy Lance:** So what happens now?

 **Ninja Keitaro:** wot do u mean?

The message came along with a video clip attachment of a Bart Baker parody. _More dodging_. Lance rolled his eyes.

 **Loverboy Lance:** will I still see u tomorrow

 **Ninja Keitaro:** dont go soft on me

 **Loverboy Lance:** im serious Keith!

 **Ninja Keitaro:** y so serious?

Lance scowled. _Seriously?_ That message came attached with a gif of The Joker. But as soon as anger bubbled up in his chest, ready for sweet release, it cooled down. Lance puckered his lips. It wasn't that simple. Keith dodging the topic so persistently, ...meant things were really bad. Now he felt guilty all over again. There was one way he could fix this, even though it required quite the sacrifice on his part. Still, he could fix this, no sweat. He could turn things around and Keith wouldn't be in trouble, not on his account, no.

 **Loverboy Lance:** im speaking with Ivysaur tomorrow and clearing this mess up

 **Ninja Keitaro:** u will do no such thing

 **Loverboy Lance:** watch me.

 **Ninja Keitaro:** He won't listen to you anyway.

 **Loverboy Lance:** ill make him listen!

 **Ninja Keitaro:** Lance I'm not coming back.

Lance blinked at the screen and read the message once over. He scrolled up through the message log, then scrolled back down. It was silent on Keith's end. Anxiously Lance typed out a response.

 **Loverboy Lance:** wot u mean?

A new anxiety gripped his stomach as he waited for Keith to reply. He could see Keith was typing _something_ , but... _what?_

 **Ninja Keitaro:** I've burned all my bridges at the GG. I'm sick and tired of being a space cadet. I'm not going back, even if they take me back. Don't even try to stop me.

 **Loverboy Lance:** oh. :(

Cryptic but _clear_. Keith obviously didn't want Lance white knighting him... There had to be things Keith wasn't telling him, other things he'd done. Lance wanted to know, he wanted so badly to know all the things Keith _wasn't_ telling him, all the rules he'd broken at the Garrison, all the disagreements he'd had with the staff. He wanted to see Keith's personal file! He wanted to _know_.

Lance shook his head, this wasn't his battle to fight. If Keith wanted to keep him out of his life, he could do it forever and Lance wouldn't get the chance to object. However much it pained him, physically pained him _not to know_ , it wasn't his call. Only Keith could decide whom he let in, how much he was willing to tell, willing to show. Lance buried his nose in the pillow with a deep suffering sigh. All he could do was appreciate the trust he'd been given, the things Keith _had_ told him... and the massive friendship-making favor he'd just done him... completely unrequested, done without expecting anything in return.

Because what could he give him? What could he really give Keith back for this? _Nothing_ , Lance realized with a shock, nothing but his never ending gratitude.

 **Loverboy Lance:** Thank you for what you did for me. I know I don't deserve it but I do want to be a space explorer. One day I want to fly a ship out to space, and be among the stars. And I know I don't deserve it and far better people, like you, could do it, should do it so much better, but... If you hadn't taken the blame for my stupid prank, that'd been it. They would have figured out it was me, and I'd lose my one and only shot at going into space. My dream would just be a dream. So... thank you.

Keith was typing ...! Lance bit his nails. Was that too forward? Had he offended Keith?

 **Ninja Keitaro:** it wasnt a stupid prank. it was funny

 **Loverboy Lance:** (*´∀`*)

 **Ninja Keitaro:** ;-) Anytime man.

Now Lance was just _melting_. How did Keith have that effect on him? Why was the man _so cool!_

Dots appeared on the screen again. Lance held his breath, face heating up under the covers.

 **Ninja Keitaro:** when I leave the G,

When Keith left the Garrison _what?_ When Keith left _what?_ Jitters of anxiety crawled up his arms.

 **Ninja Keitaro:** can we stay in touch?

Lance had never typed a message faster in his life.

 **Loverboy Lance:** YES!

 **Ninja Keitaro:** XD.

 **Ninja Keitaro:** good night Lance.

 **Loverboy Lance:** night Keith.

 **. . .**

Three nights later, Keith was staring at his phone. He hadn't slept a wink. It was morning, the first beams of gray light filtered in through the blinds. Keith sat on his cold bed, in his cold room, his roommate snoring softly, his stuff packed: one tent, one sleeping bag, one spare set of clothes, water, a healthy supply of energy bars wrapped in plastic.

He tapped on a contact, enlarging the image of a goofy smiling space cadet, one with cobalt blue eyes, short brown hair and tanned skin... _Lance_... aka the 'Space Cowboy'. Keith rolled his eyes at the silly nickname. Lance had input his number into the phone, and Keith didn't know how to change it without deleting the contact. He smiled. It fit, in a way... Lance's family had a farm back in Cuba, he'd told Keith. The guy had grown up milking cows and stealing eggs. At least it wasn't as ridiculous as the nickname _Shiro_ had given Keith when he first got the phone.

Keith grimaced. Even if he somehow found a way to change that, he doubted he ever would. Oddly this was one of very few things he still had left of Shiro, and he would hold onto it, as he held onto the dagger given him by Dad.

Mind made up, Keith messaged the asshole Space Cowboy.

 **Hotshot:** so.

A reply came seconds later. Oh, he was awake? Keith hadn't expected anything so soon. He wasn't ready. What if it was one of those _personal questions?_ He'd had to dodge so many of those recently. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, mind ready with a witty comeback, and read the message.

 **Space Cowboy:** so.

A laugh bubbled up in Keith's throat, making his roommate stir. How did ...? How did Lance manage to do that? Lift his spirits when he felt so low. How did the asshole always know just what to say? Keith felt a fluttering in his stomach which he tried very hard to ignore, because Lance was just toying with him, only playing with his feelings and leading him on.

 **Hotshot:** I'm leaving today.

 **Space Cowboy:** want me to drop you off at the bus station?

 **Space Cowboy:** airport?

That's right... he hadn't told Lance where he was going. It wasn't something he was trying to hide, he just hadn't said a thing about it because... because he simply didn't know.

 **Hotshot:** nah im good

He needed more time to figure this out, time on his own, without Lance there to poke at his already weak and crumbling resolve. He wanted to find Shiro, bring him back, to save him from whatever trouble he was in. It was obvious he couldn't do this at the Galaxy Garrison that tried to erase every single trace of Takashi Shirogane. But _where?_ Where else could he do it, and _how?_ How was he even going to find Shiro... all on his own, with no equipment, no data, no radar... He was a fool, a reckless bull-headed fool.

 **Space Cowboy:** As thou wishest, Sir.

Keith blinked. His anxiety washed off as giggles tore from his throat. The roommate groaned and rolled over to his other side, away from Keith.

 **Hotshot:** XD

 **Space Cowboy:** u gotta quit using that emoji. how bout: :|

 **Space Cowboy:** that better reflects the faces you pull

If only Lance could _see_ his face right now... On a second thought, it was better he didn't.

 **Hotshot:** BYE LANCE

Keith hid his phone in his pants. It buzzed. He told himself not to look... _don't look gaddang it!_ ...he looked.

 **Space Cowboy:** not forever right? O_O

Keith knew he was blushing and imagining all sorts of scenes where Lance wanted him as much as he did. Those thoughts went straight to his dick. He cringed, looking off into the distance, not really seeing anything. This was so frustrating. He'd met another queer guy at the Garrison, a miracle in and of itself, and it helped that the dude was hot as hell and they were close in age, but the guy was _such_ a _tease!_

 **Hotshot:** ب_ ب ill call u l8 once get settled in

 **Space Cowboy:** ok! ;-) have fun!

Fun, _ri-ight_. Keith thought sarcastically at the wall. He paused over another contact on his phone: _'Bae'_... should he tell Todd he was leaving? They hadn't spoken in months. Keith missed him and wanted to see him, but... but did Todd feel the same way? Would messaging him now only sound needy and desperate? The last thing he wanted to be!

Keith shook his head, no, he couldn't message Todd. He couldn't bring himself to delete the contact either. His thumb grazed over the photo... over Todd's sandy hair. Was this what they called _'love'?_ Then why... why did it _hurt_ so much?

 **. . .**

"Never thought I'd have you crawling over my roof installing my WiFi."

Sunlight pelted down on Lance's bare back. He was sweaty all over. "Shut up."

A hoarse laugh dissolved into the dry air. Lance wiped at his forehead, he still couldn't believe Keith had lived _days_ here... in the middle of nowhere, and built a _shack_ all on his own.

"Like that's the first thing you think of," Keith's mocking voice called from down below.

Lance grunted. Balancing on his knees, he screwed the last bolt into place. He breathed a sigh of relief when the antenna didn't fall apart. Careful not to step on one of the two sun panels, and not to get his foot snagged in the many power cables, Lance climbed down the shack.

"There!" he shouted in joy. "Now you're _connected!"_ He caught the last bit of Keith rolling his eyes.

"Fantastic. My life is now complete."

"Exactly! Now you don't have to hang around random roadside diners and freeload off their WiFi just to call me," Lance nudged Keith with his elbow, grinning. "Home is where the WiFi connects automatically."

He had received a short text from Keith this morning, with an address, telling to meet him there. They met by a depressing diner situated alongside the main road that passed through the closest town to the Galaxy Garrison. Keith had hopped on the bike and given him directions. Lance's eyebrows had traveled farther and farther into his hairline as they left the main road behind them and went down some nondescript dirt track. Nothing had prepared Lance for the _shack_ when he finally laid eyes on it. Keith smacked him hard in the stomach when Lance asked him if he was homeless now.

Still, for a shack, it was a highly advanced _shack_ , as Lance came to later realize when he started mounting a rusty old satellite dish on top of the pleated metal roof. Two sun panels covered most of the surface, connected by a net of power cables that made navigating the roof rather difficult. But now his task was finally complete, and a tiny LED glimmered on the rigged WiFi router inside the dark window-less shack. Lance basked in the glory of a job well done.

Keith gave him an unamused look. "I _can_ live without the internet, you know? You should try it sometime, going unplugged." Keith flicked him in the forehead.

"No way! My life is online."

The internet was how he kept in touch with his friends back home, with his brothers, his sister... even Mom had a Facebook now! WiFi had been a blessing to him ever since enrolling at the Garrison, like a God sent gift. He remembered the nights when Hunk missed his family so much he couldn't sleep, and they stayed up all night talking. Luckily Lance never had that: from day one at the Garrison, there hadn't been a moment he'd felt homesick. Sure he'd have to wait an entire semester to see them all again, but he couldn't really _miss_ any of them because they were _right there_ , just under his fingertips. Sometimes he messaged Marco twice a day. Veronica regularly sent him photos of their little cousins Mateo and Jacin. His family knew all about his upcoming tests... _and_ they also knew when he _flunked one_... he told them. If he didn't have that, then... he would be truly _alone_.

Lance rubbed at his forehead: there hadn't been any force behind Keith's flick, but he imagined feeling some lingering pain. His drenched shoulders were baking under the ruthless sun. His celeste blue guayabera shirt looked _so_ welcoming as it hung there on a makeshift clothesline that ran from the roof of the shack to a nearby rock. But with how badly he was sweating... Lance scowled. He'd taken his shirt off earlier to keep it _clean:_ pit stains were notoriously hard to wash out, and this was his favorite weekend guayabera. Keith had called him out here without telling him why or what to expect, and Lance had come running, fool that he was, in his best Sunday clothes.

Lance sighed, he raised an arm and took a whiff of his armpit. Yuck. "Tell me this place has a shower."

Keith snorted. "If your life's online, you don't have a life."

Lance glared at him. Without ceremony Keith picked some towel from what had to be a laundry hamper, and tossed it at Lance's head. The musty towel landed over his face. Lance frowned into the towel and blew it away from his mouth...the thing _smelled_ faintly of Keith, and _not_ in a good way. Reluctantly he wiped the sweat off his back with it.

"Psah. Says the hermit who lives alone in a fucking desert, and used to be a lifeless nerd at the Garrison who spent all his nights studying."

Keith winked and a massive self satisfied grin slid onto his face. "Not _all_ my nights." He waggled his brows suggestively.

"I have _way_ more of a life than you!"

Keith started snickering.

Lance held up a hand. "Before you met me, you didn't even know how to do a basic enchufla. _I_ taught you how to have _fun!"_

"Yeah right!" Keith broke into a fit of giggles, covering his eyes with his hand.

Lance felt his own eyes twitch. A growl rumbled from deep inside his throat, he was going to _kill_ the dick.

Luckily Keith's fit of laughs cooled down before Lance could do anything he might end up regretting. "There's something I want to show you," Keith said, twirling his finger around a longish strand of hair by his ear.

Lance raised an eyebrow, hand with the towel pausing mid wipe. "What is it?"

After a moment of silence Keith finally spoke. "I don't know."

Lance growled again; he couldn't help himself. _"What do you mean you don't know?"_

"I was hoping you could help make sense of it. There's something in this desert. It's ...really strange, unlike anything I've ever seen."

Lance's chest deflated. He stared at Keith, and the other boy stared back at him. Both had thoughtful looks on their faces.

"Okay, show me." Lance said, now intrigued. If this _thing_ was strange enough it had _Keith_ floored, he _couldn't_ go by without checking it out for himself. His explorer senses tingled, mind alert and curious. He needed _to know_.

"It's a few miles away from here. I hoped we could go on your bike?"

Why did Keith's eyebrows tent up so much when he said that? Why was Keith nervously scratching his own arm? Why had his voice pitched up at the end, as if in question? _Of course_ they could go on his bike, that's what it was _there_ for! _Duh_.

"Sure, no problem, let me put on my shirt." He tossed the towel back in the bag that served as a laundry hamper, and gaily skipped to the clothesline. _Ah_ , his beautiful, ciel blue guayabera. Eyes closed in ecstasy, he put it on, instantly feeling the cool soft breeze from the air trapped between him and the shirt.

"We better take a flashlight," Keith grunted, turning back inside his shack and digging through some trash bags.

Huh? A _flashlight?_ What could they possibly need a flashlight for? Lance blinked around at the endless stretch of red earth baking in hot sunlight. The sun was at its apex in the sky! He frowned as he pursed his lips, ...were they going on a long trip? Did Keith intend to make a day of it, and return home late at night?

And naturally, in typical _Keith_ fashion, he offered no explanation whatsoever. Lance groaned. Hands in his pockets, he sauntered away from the shack, leaving Keith to do... uh, whatever he was doing. There, in the shade behind the rock that held the clothesline, he'd parked his sweet baby blue Vespa Primavera! Lance stroked the scooter's sides reverently, cooing in a soft tone: " _Babe_ , you look _lovely_ today, absolutely adorable."

He fastened the black helmet under his chin, and brought the visor down. What a _relief! So_ lucky he'd opted for a tinted visor when he got his helmet. Lance breathed in and out, taking slow, deep breaths of the dry air, as his eyes adjusted to the dimmed light.

Before long Keith arrived; legs shaky and those dumb black fingerless gloves on his hands. _Who_ wore _gloves_ in this _heat?_ Seriously, _who?_ Keith already wore the blue helmet, visor down, so Lance could hardly read his face. Without a word, Keith rushed past him and sat down on the back of the scooter's saddle.

Lance paused.

"Let's go," said Keith. His voice sounded a little rushed... or _agitated_ was a better word.

Lance couldn't put his finger on it, but sure as hell _something_ was up with Keith. He decided not to comment on it though. Lance straddled the saddle and turned the key. He looked at Keith through the side mirrors: there was ample space between them, and Keith's hands were gripping the sides of the saddle.

"Sure you're okay in the back? Don't wanna sit up front?"

"I'm _fine,"_ Keith groaned, "can we just _go_ already?"

"Okay, _okay_. Sheesh! Who pissed in _your_ Cheerios?"

Keith sounded confused. "I don't... even ...have Cheerios for breakfast."

Lance rolled his eyes. He couldn't tell if Keith was _naturally_ this oblivious, or if he was mocking him. "Which way do I go, _genius?"_

Keith reached over his shoulder and pointed. "That rock formation over there."

Lance started the engine and rode off in that direction, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Cool air passed along his arms and neck, his shirt fluttered in the breeze. The earth was bumpy, and there were no roads for miles, so he couldn't go as fast as he'd like. At this speed Keith could comfortably sit in the back, not needing to wrap his arms around Lance. If he was being completely honest with himself, that bothered Lance a little. He enjoyed the physical comfort, just the sensation of being held... even if it was from a pal or a shallow acquaintance he didn't particularly like or hate, the feeling of being held, having someone's arms around you... _or_ wrapping your arms around _them_ , it always had something special, something magical. Lance pouted, he felt _so untouched_ right now!

"Take a right turn here," Keith's hardened raspy voice said from behind him.

With practiced ease, Lance maneuvered his sweet blue baby into the turn. He saw a range rise up ahead.

"Hey, you _sure_ we're heading in the right direction?" he shouted over the breeze, the low hum of the engine, and the noise of wheels crushing dirt. The _last_ thing they needed was getting lost in a _desert_ of all places!

"Trust me."

"If I don't make it back to the Garrison tonight, it's on _you."_

Did Keith just... _punch_ him in the back? Lance gasped.

" _Hey!_ No bothering the driver!"

He _definitely_ felt something jab him between the shoulder blades _this time_. Lance growled beneath his breath. Why, that... _little_...!

"We're here."

"Huh?"

"I _said:_ we're here."

Lance blinked in confusion. He pressed on the brakes lightly, but didn't bring sweet baby blue to a full stop just yet.

"There's nothing there..." he said numbly, gazing around him.

" _Wrong_ , look to your right."

He did. For a second or so he didn't see it, but then... " _Is that a hole in the ground?"_

"Not so _loud_ , Lance! _Please_ , my _ears!"_

Lance scowled. He _hadn't_ been _loud_. His speaking volume was perfectly reasonable. Scowling, he parked his baby a safe distance away from the cave, and let Keith get off. There it was _again_ , he noted, there was something... _giddy_ about Keith's movements, almost as if he were exploding on the inside. Lance took the helmet from Keith's jittering fingers and followed him in the cave.

Well the cave _did_ explain why they needed a flashlight, he thought in hindsight. As the walls grew narrow around them, Lance was forced to hunch his back, until he was crawling on all fours with Keith's bantam hiney in his face, silhouetted by blue torch light.

He didn't have to reach far to grab Keith's left foot by the ankle. "Is there any way you can crawl faster?"

"Can you _shut up?"_ Keith kicked his foot free.

" _Oww!_ You nicked me in the _nose!"_

"Serves you right."

In the darkness Lance felt his face for any bleeding... his hand came back dry. " _Jerk_."

"Anyway," Keith's raspy voice breathed ahead of him, "we're nearly there."

Mere minutes later they stumbled into a wide opening. Lance sat up straight, arched his back and rubbed his throbbing knees. Keith stood, and walked over to the closest wall, shining his torch on it.

Lance rolled his eyes at the indigenous carvings on the wall. Was _this_ what Keith had dragged him all the way out here for? He sighed, resting his head on his knees. Keith must've missed his true calling as an anthropologist. That thought put a sad smile on Lance's face. He was completely unprepared for what came next...

As though a thousand small lamps turned on all at once, the walls lit up red all around him!

Lance fell back in shock. The ceiling was glowing a dark dangerous red too. He sat up again, rubbing his head in confusion... when he saw Keith standing by the wall, torch turned off and dangling uselessly in his left hand, his right hand pressed to the wall. Lance's eyes grew wide. Keith's hand was pressed to a _carving_ on the wall.

"And that is not all," Keith said, pocketing his torch and reaching his left hand out to Lance, "come, follow me."

Lance took Keith's hand and let him help him up. Keith held his hand for a little longer than was technically necessary. But it was nice, soothing in a way that told Lance he wasn't alone in this, he wasn't imagining things and if things got really bad, he had someone right beside him to suffer along with him. He wasn't alone. Keith let go and walked further down the cave, keeping his right hand on the glowing indigenous carvings. Lance was just a few steps behind. What could be more shocking than _this?_

He... he didn't even _want_ to know. They rounded a corner, and a deep rumbling sound echoed through the tunnel, making Lance's heart jump to his throat. He panted, and turned, searching for the source of the strange sound. Two large yellow eyes stared back at him from the darkness.

Lance shrieked.

Keith burst out laughing. "Man, you're taking this a lot worse than I did." He snapped on his torch and lit up the dark alcove.

Lance expected to see a large animal... _not_ ...whatever the coño this was... He scratched the back of his neck, looking at it.

The thing was big, red, and made entirely out of metal: a man made structure in the middle of a desert, hidden underground inside a glowing red cave... he didn't know _what_ to make of it.

Keith shifted from foot to foot beside him. "Yeah, that's pretty much _my_ reaction after I got over the initial shock," he said, followed by a couple of nervous laughs that echoed through the cave, making his voice sound even smaller. "Can't figure out what this thing _is_ , or what it _does_ , or what it's supposed to do."

A smile grew on Lance's face, stretching his mouth till his cheekbones squeezed his eyes. "Well then," he looked at Keith and said in a cool voice, dripping with sarcasm, "why don't we find out?"

Without waiting on a response, Lance set off and raced down the tunnel, toward the red metal thing.

" _Lance!_ Wait!"

Lance laughed, cool cave air whipping past him as he ran. His feet bounced off the stony ground, almost there, almost there! He looked over his shoulder and giggled, Keith hadn't caught up to him yet, he hadn't even started running.

Wham! A jolt of pain hit him hard in the chest and spread through his body like wildfire, his head spun. He felt like he was about to die. On instinct Lance leapt back. Startled, he placed a hand over his beating heart. _Whoa_ , when had his heart gone into overdrive? He rubbed soothing circles into his chest and looked warily at the big metal _thing_. What... what had it _done_ to him?

" _Lance!_ You okay?" Keith was at his side within seconds, gripping his shoulder and shaking him lightly until Lance looked him in the eye.

"Y-yeah... I guess." He didn't feel completely fine, but the worst of the dizziness had passed. Confusion turned into annoyance, and he scrunched up his face in a scowl. "Why didn't you say _something?"_ He pushed at Keith's hand on his shoulder, shoving him away. "I could have _died_."

Keith gasped. "I _tried_ warning you! _You_ wouldn't _listen_."

It took Lance a moment to register that the cave was dark once more, save for the blue flashlight. The glowing blood red hue was completely gone. He turned to look at the other person with him in the cave: Keith wasn't touching the wall.

Lance frowned.

"What part of _'Lance, wait, the robot has a force field around it, don't go closer, you'll get burned'_ didn't you understand?" Keith went on.

"Put your hand on the wall," Lance said in a calm voice.

Keith blinked at him, mouth falling open and eyes going wide as he tilted his head. "...Huh?"

Lance let out a long breath. "On a carving," he said slowly, enunciating the words, "put your hand on a carving on the wall."

"Owwkayy..." Keith did just that, he placed his right hand on the wall and turned his torch off.

The walls lit up red again. The sharp intake of Lance's breath was palpable. "Let go," he stammered after a moment, still staring at the intricate red designs lining the walls.

"What? Why should I do that?" Keith sounded confused.

In a hard voice Lance repeated himself, staring Keith down. " _Let go_ of the wall."

Keith dropped his right hand and the cave plunged into darkness.

Having let his eyes adjust to the dark, Lance used the robot's shining yellow eyes and the sound of Keith's breathing to navigate as he took careful shuffling steps to the closest wall. He ended up bumping shoulders with Keith. The other boy coughed, and stepped aside, giving Lance full access.

Lance reached out and pressed his hand to the wall where he remembered a carving to be. He felt the edges of a carving with his fingertips, a shallow indent... he followed the carving, smoothly traced his hand over it... he tried the same with another carving, but...

nothing happened. The cave remained dark, just as it always had been. Lance stared at the wall... the darkness hid his surprise.

He grabbed Keith's hand by the wrist and pressed it to the carving. Both boys gasped. Red lights lit up all around them.

They exchanged a look.

"It only lights up when you touch it..." Lance stammered, amazed.

"Yeah," Keith said, his voice raggedy with hardly contained emotion, "what is this even supposed to mean?"

Lance frowned. "Might be a fluke. Let go of the wall."

This time Keith dropped his hand instantly, Lance pressed _his_ to the wall... nothing. They repeated the experiment several times; each trial gave the same result.

"Okay, it's official," Lance declared, stepping away from the wall. "This cave _loves_ you."

Keith snorted. A faint red glow surrounded them, giving off vibes of danger, and adrenaline-fuelled joy. "Why me?"

Lance paused, puckering his lips as he mulled it over. "Mmm... maybe it's related to ancestry," he rubbed his chin. "Maybe..."

Keith's vibrant _angry_ voice broke through Lance's musings, cutting him short: "I am _not_ Native American."

"You could have Native blood in you," Lance said with a raised index finger.

Keith glared at him in silent fury.

Lance smirked, curling his raised finger. "Could be."

Keith turned his attention to the cave walls. A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "But if these carvings were made by the Indians... then," he pointed at the huge metal structure hidden in the alcove, "...what is _that thing_ doing here?"

Lance blinked a few times. Keith _had_ a point. Still, the carvings looked too Native in nature to _not_ have been drawn by the Indians. "Hmm," he hummed, drawing Keith's attention. When he had Keith's full attention, he looked into his eyes. His eyes had... a _peculiar_ shade under this light... almost like they were... _purple?_ Lance shook the thought away, he raised both index fingers and brought them together, so they lined up side by side. "The carvings and the robot don't have to be related," he said, letting his index fingers drift apart to illustrate his point. "They could be two separate things."

Keith sent him a look that said ' _really?'_

"Or," now Lance's grin grew to astronomical proportions, "the robot could have been created by an ancient society!"

" _Oh Lord,_ " Keith rolled his eyes." _Get out of here!"_

Lance couldn't help the giggles that spilled from his throat. He clutched his stomach with both hands, trying to contain it, but only ended up laughing harder, sending weird squeaky echoes down the cave. "Maybe _aliens_ visited us long long ago?"

Keith groaned and sauntered off to the alcove, shining his flashlight on the machine.

Lance shut his eyes in bliss and went on in the same teasing tone: "I've always held onto the belief that we've been visited by aliens, _at least once_."

He heard Keith's cool voice drift through the cave air, with a snarky ring to it: "You just want them to anal probe you."

"I..." his eyes shot open, "eh... _what?"_

"You heard me."

Keith sounded unbelievably smug. Lance hated him for it. He crossed his arms and huffed. "As _if!"_

Two angry footsteps later he stood right beside Keith, looking at the robot. Was it... was it a _robot?_ Or a vehicle of some sort? He approached the thing closer, taking small baby steps. Now he was only inches away from where he'd been when the electric shock hit him earlier. Maybe... Lance blew a hot breath into the cool air of the cave. Yes! He _had_ judged the distance right. The moment his breath hit the force field, a glowy ruby red barrier formed around the vehicle. Lance held his breath, he heard Keith gasp behind him. Moments later, the barrier was gone.

Lance blew against it again, this time making sure his breath was as warm and as wet as he could get it. He could _see_ the condensate on the shield as it formed once more, a warm, soothing red... the barrier appeared to be made up of hundreds of glowing red hexagons, like a beehive. Lance frowned at it.

"Maybe," he thought out loud, murmuring the words under his breath, "maybe all we have to do is knock?"

He missed the frustrated groan behind him, and Keith saying it couldn't _possibly_ be _that easy:_ whoever left this robot lying here wouldn't want randos marching in and taking over, they had to have some key, or encrypted password system in place, something that could be accessed remotely. No, Lance heard none of that. He blocked it all out, blocked out Keith's useless words and rage because he _knew_ , something deep inside his heart told him he _had_ _to_ do this. Lance reached out and knocked on the force field barrier.

He was thrown back, colliding into Keith. They were flung into a wall. Keith's flashlight flew five feet in the air, landing someplace on the rocky cave floor with the lamp sticking up. Everything was cast in faint dark blue hues.

Keith whined from under Lance's left elbow. Lance quickly scrambled off him. In the dim light from the fallen torch he could still clearly make out Keith's face, and Keith looked _pissed_.

"Nice going," Keith spat, twisting his right arm to massage his back. "Maybe next time you can take a gun with you and _shoot_ it, _Arrogance_ McLame."

Oh, he did _not_ just _...!_ Lance's hands balled to fists and he was on his feet in a second, towering over Keith who remained sprawled out on the floor.

"Oh _yeah?"_ Lance shouted, sending echoes down the tunnel. "And you've known about this place _how long_ , exactly?" he tilted his chin up and barked a derisive laugh. "I learned more about this cave in _one hour_ of being here than you've gathered _in_ _days_. Can't figure out a thing on your own, _can you?"_ he tapped the side of his own forehead lightly. "Need _me_ to suss it all out, don't you, _Teeth Cocaine?"_

That last comment had Keith crawling to a crouch, arms clenched at his sides and low growls escaping him as he glared up at Lance like a feral cat about to pounce. Lance could've sworn Keith's angular eyes looked _violet_ that very second... he shook the thought away since now Keith ran into him, aiming a punch at his gut.

Lance side stepped and grabbed a good fistful of Keith's hair. Keith screamed, yelping back. He tried kicking Lance in the shins, the crotch, tried stamping on his feet. Deftly side stepping each kick, Lance made quick work of subduing Keith's flailing arms. He pinned them behind Keith's back in a hammerlock.

Both boys were panting heavily by the time Keith gave up trying to kick him where it hurt. After an anxious moment, Lance let him go; he stepped back, as far away from Keith as he could get in the tunnel.

Keith huddled his shoulders and rubbed his elbows. " _I hate you!"_ he shouted at the wall.

Lance folded his arms and faced the opposite wall. "The feeling is mutual," he said in a voice of cold finality. Idly he patted his shirt... he hoped it hadn't been torn from all the punching tugging and scratching.

"Busy licking your wounds?" Keith's caustic voice cut the air.

Lance threw him a look.

"Care to help figure this thing out?" Keith jabbed a finger at the robot.

Lance turned his back to him. He was _done_. Done with the insults, done with Keith's toffee-nosed tone, done with his _'holier than thou'_ manner. He stomped away from the robot, away from Keith, from all of it, back down the tunnel where he remembered the gigantic hall to be.

"Lance?" an uncertain voice called out to him.

Lance didn't turn, he didn't stop. He was _through_ with Keith.

" _Lance!"_ Did Keith's voice just take on a pleading note? ...so what if it did? That didn't change the fact Keith was a massive jerk-off, and Lance was done being his lackey.

He continued walking down the tunnel. That was when the cave started rumbling, as though shaken by an earthquake. A rock the size of a football fell in front of his feet. He took a gasping step back, eyes wide, and saw the cave collapse all around him. Walls were crashing, coming down on all sides.

He met eyes with Keith who stood deeper in the tunnel, closer to the robotic _thing_. Had _it_ caused all this damage? Lance _knew_ the thing was dangerous, he _knew it_. Then he saw a rock rattle and break free... exactly above Keith's head.

" _Keith!"_ he cried, " _look out!"_

Keith twisted toward the robot, completely missing the rock that was making for his head. Lance didn't think. He couldn't think, had no time to think. On gut instinct alone he raced through the tunnel, running faster than he'd ever ran before. He threw himself at Keith, knocking into him and slamming them both out of the way. They rolled over the cool cave floor, a tangle of limbs, hitting random jagged rocks that jabbed them everywhere.

Both boys grunted. Lance sat up, rubbing his right arm. When his hand came back wet, he knew his shirt was ruined. The earth was shaking underneath them, and all at once, Lance knew they had set off a very dangerous weapon. He looked at the red metal _thing_ , and did a double take.

A _hatch_ in the metal had opened...? Or a _door_ , ...no, a _hatch_ , a metal hatch door. Low glowing red lights were on inside, leading the way up metal _stairs_ , inside the thing. So... it was _meant_ to be entered? Lance frowned.

He didn't get much time to think, because the cave was shaking again, rocks rattling above them. Without a second thought Lance jumped to his feet, giving a sharp tug to Keith's jacket sleeve.

"Quick!" he hissed at Keith. "Get inside!"

Lance made a dive for the metal hatch door thing. Keith wasn't far behind. For some odd reason the invisible shield didn't materialize around the metal structure this time. Lance's only explanation for that was they must've broken the thing... somehow. They both heaved a sigh of relief when the hatch closed behind them, and the rumbling noises of the cave got muted, like they were happening somewhere far away, not right above them. Keith slumped against a metal wall, panting.

Also panting, Lance bent over, bracing his hands on his knees. He stared up at the stairs in front of him, wondering where they led.

Taking one step at a time, Lance shuffled up the steps. When nothing jumped out of the shadows to hold him back, he got bolder, taking two steps at a time. This thing was _huge!_ He halted at the top of the stairs, at the edge of what appeared to be... a small room? The sliding doors to the room opened as soon as he climbed all the steps. Lance stared inside, slack jawed.

The room had a wide window, through which he could see the rumbling cave... Lance approached it closer, and stumbled on a chair. No, not just any chair, an armchair that seemed to tilt back, allowing the body to recline in a lounging position. When Keith's footsteps went up the stairs, Lance noticed the X shaped seatbelt draped around the armchair. He bent over to inspect it closely, almost pressing his nose to the clasp.

"So, ...uh... what does this thing _do_ ...exactly?" Keith whispered from somewhere behind him.

Why was Keith being so quiet? The belt buckle didn't seem to have any insignia of any kind, no serial number... nothing. If the Galaxy Garrison or some other organization had this made, they didn't want anyone tracing it back to them. Lance looked around for any logos or trademarks that might give him a clue, but the symbols he _did_ find looked alien to him... and then, he noticed something else.

" _Keith!"_ he yelled, turning around, massive smile spreading across his face like a virus.

Keith winced. Perhaps he was being loud again, he _didn't care_ , this was so much more important.

"Keith look!" Lance pointed at the armrests of the chair. "It has joysticks and pedals and everything." His heart thumped in his chest, making his blood run hot through his veins. A happy lightheaded feeling filled him top to toe. "We're in some kind of a... vessel," he shook his head, "no, _vehicle_."

It was unlikely, given the vehicle had been parked underground, very unlikely this tank could fly. Regardless, Lance's pilot senses were tingling, fingers itching to grab those joysticks, like a five year old left alone in a toy shop after closing time. He was in _Heaven!_

Keith frowned, looking about the room, his narrowed dark eyes eventually zeroed in on the driver's seat. "Looks like it was designed to be operated by only one person."

That was true. There weren't any other seats in the room... or should he say 'cockpit'? He shared a sideways glance with Keith, their eyes locked in challenge. Both boys launched themselves at the single seat.

Shoulder to shoulder, Keith shoved him hard. "I get to steer!"

"No, _me!"_ Lance grabbed the headrest with both hands and tried to push his knee onto the seat. He only succeeded in placing his foot on the footrest before Keith pried his hands off.

" _Ugh_ ," Keith grunted, "get out of my way."

"What are you talking about, _you_ are in _my_ way!"

Standing on either side of the armchair they pressed into each other, jaws locked jowl to jowl. They growled and swatted at each other with their hands, the blows were weak but still stung. Keith slapped Lance in the face, Lance smacked Keith a new one on the booty.

" _Fuck_ you!" Keith howled in anger.

"No, fuck _you!"_

Facing off with hunched backs, faces deformed in cruel scowls, they weren't prepared for what came next. The vehicle moved.

The force of the motion knocked Lance off balance and into the chair. Keith barely hung onto it, fingers gripping an armrest, knuckles turning white. They gasped as the vehicle made another sudden movement, tossing Lance out of the seat. He landed on the floor, hard on his bum.

Pain coursed through Lance's spine and he reached down to massage his hurt buttocks. He barely registered that Keith was now slumped sideways over the chair, in an unflattering heap.

"What..." Keith weakly whined from where he'd fallen, "what is going on?"

"I... I don't know." His own voice sounded muffled to his own ears, like it came from underwater.

The machine jerked again, shoving Keith into the seat and Lance into a wall. He groaned.

"Fuck," Keith gasped, shivering as he looked all about him, as though lost in a daze.

" _Keith,"_ Lance didn't care if he shouted right now, didn't care if his voice sounded weak and needy to his own ears, he didn't give a rat's ass who got to pilot this _thing_ , all he cared about was getting through to his friend and stopping umm... _whatever_ this shaking thing _was_. "There's a belt on the seat!"

He didn't have to tell Keith to use it, Keith was already looking for it. Clumsy small hands and pointy fingers clutched helplessly at the seatbelt.

" _How do I put this thing on?"_

" _I don't know! Why you asking me?"_

Another knock and Lance was flung back into the seat, partly splayed over Keith, his left arm flash against Keith's chest. Seconds later he felt the strong grip of hands on him, digging into his back, holding him in place.

"Now what?" Keith whispered close to his ear.

Lance reached down and buckled the belt properly at Keith's chest. Keith grunted when the clasp made a sharp clicking sound. Lance adjusted himself on the seat, holding onto the armrests till he was relatively comfortable on Keith's lap. He noticed that Keith's hands never left him, merely shifted over to his sides as he turned to face the window... uh... windshield?

"Now..." Lance said, looking at the glowy red display before him, "we figure out how to operate this thing... so it doesn't kill us."

The last bit of his sentence sent a chill down his own spine and made the cockpit grow eerily quiet. Keith choked on a breath.

" _Lance_ , I don't think any of these display screens are in English."

Keith was right, the glowy translucent red displays were covered in a bunch of weird little symbols... _hieroglyphs?_ that he couldn't place. He puckered his lips in thought.

"What do you think Keith, do the letters look Korean?"

Keith smacked him over the head.

"Oww." Lance rubbed the spot gingerly and sent a displeased glare Keith's way.

"They could be code," Keith spoke over his shoulder, sounding cool and collected, like he _hadn't_ just lashed out violently and hit the back of Lance's head.

Lance glared daggers at Keith.

"What?" Keith said, truly dumbfounded. "You don't think these symbols could be coded letters?"

Lance shook his head, turning back to the screens below the windshield. "Nevermind, it's worth a try."

He leaned forward, set dusty fingertips to the touchscreen when the vehicle jerked once more. The knock nearly flung him out the chair, he gasped, panting as Keith's fingers dug into his sides. They had to do something about this, and they had to do it _fast_. Lance slung his right arm around Keith's neck. With shaking fingers he hurriedly typed something random into the control panel, and pressed a button to his left.

He held his breath, not daring to breathe as a grinding mechanical sound came from above. Keith let go of him and placed his hands on the armrests. An explosion of fiery orange lit up the world around them.

Lance screamed, barely registering Keith's arms snake around his waist. The burst of light came with a horrific rumble, loud enough to hurt his ears. Boulders crashed into their windshield. Lance clawed his fingers in the collar of Keith's jacket, he thought he was going to die.

"Lance? _Lance!"_

Hands shook his shoulders... Lance opened his eyes, he blinked and stared. The cave, it was no more.

Looking out the windshield now, he saw a desert landscape: sand, sand, flat red earth as far as the eye could see... red rocks far, far off on the horizon, and above it only sky... They were outside, outside the cave... but how could that be...?

Had this machine just... _destroyed_ the cave they found it in? Lance didn't know if he should feel lucky to be out of that dark place that frankly gave him the creeps, or scared. If this machine was strong enough to destroy a cave that had been here for centuries, what _else_ could it destroy? And, should they be _inside_ it?

Keith nudged him a little. Repositioning himself on Keith's lap, Lance reached for the control panel again. He cringed... what en Dios should he type? He couldn't make sense of any of these weird letters. Lance frowned, placed his hand flat on the touchscreen, and tried thinking of something, _anything_. Wait, what if... his mouth fell open when a thought struck him, clear as day. Unhooking his right arm from Keith's shoulders, he leaned over the red display screen, hands poised over the panel.

Eyes closed, he typed a command sequence as if this was an ordinary QWERTY keyboard. If the letters were coded, there was a big chance the keypad would have the same layout! After all, how else were soldiers supposed to operate this thing? It didn't make sense to retrain them to type on a radically different keypad.

The machine jerked into motion as soon as Lance hit Intro. It staggered forward, then swayed sharply back and the cockpit tilted to the left. Okay, not QWERTY! Lance frantically took to typing, with closed eyes he brought the Dvorak layout to mind, silently blessing his love for outdated 90s keyboard-based videogames.

A low growl shuddered through the machine, making Lance's arm hairs stand on end. With a loud roar the vehicle surged forward at breakneck speed. Lance panicked, inhaling and exhaling shallow breaths. Keith's hands tightened on his waist. Okay, not Dvorak either! He had one last shot at this before they were doomed. Lance swore, if this keyboard wasn't _Colemak_ , he was sawing off his own left hand!

The vehicle slowed down, till it moved smoothly over the desert plains. Keith let out a sigh, warm breath fanned the back of Lance's neck.

Lance blinked, once, twice, a feather light fluffy feeling fluttered in his chest. He couldn't help the massive grin that found its way to his face. He'd figured it out! _He_ had solved the mystery that had taken Keith so many days to understand. Lance preened in the glory, squeezing his eyes to half moons. He twisted to look over his shoulder.

"What do you say, Keith, let's take this baby for a ride."

Keith frowned back at him. "Do you even know how this thing functions?"

Lance shrugged. The happy feeling bubbling up within him was too much to ignore, it called for adventure, called for danger, exploration. "Who cares!" He snapped back around and gripped the joysticks firmly in both hands. "I wanna try something."

" _Fine,"_ Keith grumbled underneath him.

Lance smirked. He had a feeling, just a feeling, that if he typed a certain control sequence in the display screen and steered the joysticks the right way, this vehicle would fly. He was dying to find out.

With a swift pull he yanked the joysticks back, leaning as far back as the seat would let him, head slammed into Keith's shoulder. The craft made a deep mechanical purr as it came to a standstill. Both boys held their breaths, Keith gripped the armrests in anxious anticipation, Lance set his jaw and curled his legs around the seat.

The craft lurched into the air. Lance was squished against Keith's chest, drawing a hissing sigh from his lungs as the craft went up, up, up, like a rollercoaster starting up a hill. They broke into the stratosphere like it was nothing. Lance felt the thrill from under his fingertips, he felt it ooze through his chest, to his toes, his cheeks. He was inside a ship, a _ship!_ Flying a wonderful powerful airplane.

"Alright!" Lance whooped. " _Yeah!"_

He twisted, turning his head back: "Keith, Keith, this ship can _fly!"_

But Keith wasn't looking too good, he looked a little pale. Well, paler than he normally did... he looked like he was about to get sick.

Lance held up his index finger. "Hey, _no_ puking in the cockpit."

Keith clenched his jaw crossly and glared at him. "Do you know how to pilot this thing?"

Lance blinked. Angrier than he'd ever heard him before, Keith went on, voice rising in wrath and distress.

"Do you even know what those symbols mean?" Keith pointed at something behind his back. He had to be pointing at the display screens.

Yeah, he was probably pointing at the screens. Lance pursed his lip. "Well... _no_ , but,"

A familiar emptiness engulfed his tummy, the same way it felt when he got on freefall rides... His heart clenched and his and Keith's breaths did a collective hitch. He didn't get to say another word before the ship reached its apex in the sky, and they were falling, _falling!_

Falling back down to Earth. Lance blinked back tears, fighting the constricting feeling inside his chest. Two hands shot forward and saved him from flying all over the cockpit. The hands held him tight. Legs wrapped around his own, acting like a belt that anchored him to the seat. He relaxed into Keith's hold and shut his eyes.

He didn't want to see the clouds that rushed past, the red, dead earth that got nearer and nearer. He could feel Keith's shallow breaths, the rapid rise and fall of his chest against his back. Tears formed at the edges of his eyes. Fuck fuckity fuck. This was no game anymore. This was no simulation, not a rollercoaster ride. They were crash landing down to Earth inside an aircraft neither of them knew how to pilot. If there _was_ an ejector seat system, neither of them knew _where_ to find it or _how_ to activate. They were going to die.

Keith breathed something soft right above his ear. The words came out mumbled so Lance hardly heard them over the din of the aircraft.

" _What's that?"_ Lance shouted like a deaf man, or a grandpa, he didn't care which: he was going through life stages in the blink of an eye.

"I don't hate you!" Keith shouted over the general hum and buzz around them.

Lance flashed his eyes open. _What?_ Of all the things Keith _could_ say... he chose to say _that?_ A _solution_ to their problem would be very _nice_ right about _now_. Something about the dead finality of it struck him deep within, there was no escape, there were no clever tricks he could pull from his sleeve at the very last second. And Keith knew this, too.

He spun himself around in Keith's hold. One terrified face met another. "Same here," Lance whispered.

He hoped Keith heard it. He didn't know what he was doing, or why, but he slid his eyes shut, clutched fistfuls of Keith's shirt and pushed his face into Keith's, bringing their lips together. Navigating by touch and sound alone, his lips found Keith's, and nibbled gently.

If these were to be his last moments on Earth, he wanted to make them count, he wanted to feel, to feel good, not this awful dreadful weight above his head, telling him he was about to die.

Seconds passed and Keith kissed back. Slow at first, testing the waters, then a tongue licked against his lip and Lance _gladly_ let him in, _anything_ to dull his senses to the mechanical roar around them. Keith's tongue slipped past his lips, past his teeth, and they touched. Lively at first, soon growing needy. The threat of certain death, destruction hung thick in the air, suffocating them. Lance trembled, shallow breaths came in and out his nose, his head spun. Arms compressed his sides and sharp nails dug lines down his back. It was like kissing with a gun held to your head, one wrong move and they would blow your brains away.

Lance didn't dare open his eyes. Somewhere far off in the distance, he heard a click, followed by the low hiss of engines coming into gear. Strangely he thought he saw something, like an image projected into his mind: red desert earth coming at them at maddening speed.

Only there was no way he could actually see that. His eyes were closed, and he had his back to the windshield this _entire time_. It didn't make sense, nothing made sense but his lips on Keith's, their tongues rubbing against each other, connecting. And still... he saw red earth rapidly approach. No matter how hard he clenched his eyes shut and tried to unsee it, he couldn't escape this view. It was there, it was _there_ , it was _part of him_ , or... he'd become part of the machine, his arms extending and folding inside metal casing, his heart beating to the flare of the engine, his mind melding into the cables and wires that controlled the craft...

Desperately Lance knotted his hands into Keith's shirt, feeling soft cotton fabric, its texture under his fingertips grounded him in reality. He was going through his final life stage: senile dementia.

None of this was real, none of it, but... it _was?_ He... he was _alive_ , a little voice said inside his head, and _another_ raspier voice growled at him, like a _lion's_ roar. He frowned into the kiss, something wasn't right, it was not right. Did it... did it _really_ sound like that growl was telling him what to do? Like, giving him instructions?

He broke the kiss, unlocking wet lips from Keith's, and dared open his eyes. Keith was panting, his bangs were parted, brows furrowed and eyes at half mast. _What?_ his expression seemed to say.

Lance let his hands trail up from where they rested on Keith's chest, and cupped his cheeks gently. "I, I'm gonna try something," he breathed, not once losing eye contact. "Can you keep holding me?"

"Don't do anything," Keith grit out between clenched teeth.

"What?" Lance blinked.

"You've done enough. Last time you," Keith's voice took on a mocking tone, _"tried something,"_ then dropped back to its usual wooden one, "we blasted off into the sky."

He couldn't believe this. Instead of arguing, Lance whirled around and grabbed the joysticks. There was no point, no point trying to convince Keith when he was so hell bent on disagreeing. He hoped Keith got the message.

Fingers squeezing the joysticks, Lance pursed his lips. Come on, come on, _come on!_ He watched the ground come closer, they were at minimum parachute altitude, if he didn't do _something_ fast, they were dead meat for sure. The cockpit grew hot. Sweat dripped down his forehead, joysticks all clammy in his hands. Lance grit his teeth and pushed the joysticks forward with all his might.

And they kept on falling, falling lower still, to their death. Nothing Lance tried seemed to work. A pit of darkness opened up and swallowed him whole, the voice in the back of his mind, the one that rumbled like the craft, the one that told him what to do, fell silent, completely still. He was on his own again, tears sparked at the corners and ringed his eyes, this was it. This was really it, it was the end, the end of him. Keith's hands still encircled his chest like a belt, his legs draped over Lance's, keeping his feet away from the pedals... _the pedals!_

"Let go of my legs!"

"Huh?"

" _Let go!"_

"But then you'll..."

Lance wrestled his feet free and rammed his right foot on one pedal. He closed his eyes. Just then he was pressed flat against Keith, making both of them grunt. Lance snapped his eyes open and watched the desert plains whip past. The aircraft was flying parallel to the earth, thrusters engaged. Lance took a moment to breathe, then turned and met a very shocked, pale Keith. They were alive! Alive! He was so happy he could kiss Keith again.

Instead he settled on placing his hands on either side of Keith's face and yelling: "Buddy! We made it!"

Keith grabbed his wrists and pried his hands off. "I can see why the Garrison booted you from Fighter Class ― you're a _terrible_ pilot."

Lance squawked. "Hey! _You're_ the one who got kicked out, not me."

"Whatever."

With a huff Lance turned back to the windshield. The view before him instantly lifted his mood. He was flying, flying! Better yet, he was piloting this ship. Giddy fingers ran over the control panel as his tongue slipped past his lips, a signature smirk on his face. He was dying to see what else this craft could do.

Typing a command he'd learned in last year's Flight Sim class, Lance grabbed the joysticks and rocked them to the left. The craft swerved toward a range of cliffs. Keith's nails dug into his abdomen.

"Are you _insane!"_

Lance threw his head back and laughed.

Just as they were about to crash into the red stoned cliff, he tugged both joysticks back sharp, pedal to the metal. The craft changed course easily and skirted the stone wall like it was child's play.

"Woohoo!"

" _Idiot."_

Not taking his eyes off course, he caught a glimpse of Keith in the corner of his sight. His friend was scowling; a deep frown ran all the way between his pitch black brows. Lance chuckled.

"Pussy."

Keith jabbed him in the ribs, _hard_. It was still totally worth it. Lance slowed the ship down and cruised her at a cozy speed over the desert that seemed to stretch out forever, endless in all directions.

"Uhh... _Keith?_ I think we're lost."

An arm reached over his shoulder and pointed somewhere to the right. "About two miles in that direction will take us back to the cave."

He said it so casually Lance hardly noticed the hitch of his own voice and drastic widening of his eyes. "How do you know all this stuff?"

Keith groaned. " _Fine_ , could be more like ten miles. Just, take us back already before we _really_ get lost."

He had a point. With a sigh Lance hauled the ship around and let her drift in the direction Keith showed. It took only ten minutes before their surroundings started looking familiar. After that he located the caved cave quite easily. It was rather... hard to _miss_. The cave had imploded leaving a large gaping hole of upturned earth in its wake.

"Hey!" Lance pointed to a far off spot in the distance. "I can see your shack from up here."

"My _house_ ," Keith corrected him.

"Whatever," looking over his shoulder Lance waggled his eyebrows. "Want me to _take you home?"_ his voice dropped to a deep low pitch.

"Park the vehicle right here."

Lance blinked. "But I can take you back home in a jiffy, just wah..."

"I said, _park the vehicle right here."_

"But why?"

"With how dense you are I can't believe you've not flunked out the Garrison yet."

" _Hey!"_

" _Urrrggh_...! It's obvious to everyone with half a brain that the people who built this ship won't like us using it. As soon as they notice it's gone they'll come looking for us, and I don't need any crazed organizations on my back. _Do you?"_

"I think they'll notice the wrecked cave... we can't exactly hide this ship above ground or anything."

"Just... park the ship _here_ , please," in a softer voice Keith whispered into the cockpit, "I don't want anything to do with it."

"No."

" _What?"_

Lance smiled. "I said no," he jerked the joysticks forward and pushed down on the gas pedal. The airship roared into gear, pivoted and leaped. Lance was on cloud nine. This was what he was made for, this was what all those years of training had led up to, this moment. He didn't want it to _end_.

"Sooo..." Keith drawled in a bored tone, "should I prepare a second sleeping bag, or will you walk all the way back to the Garrison?"

"What?" Lance raised an eyebrow.

"If we keep the ship, we can't let people know we have it, _especially not_ the Garrison. You catch my drift?"

"Well _duh_ , I'm not _that_ fucked in the head Keith."

"So you plan on having a fucking sleepover at my place? You better tell me now."

Huh? What was Keith going on about? Then he noticed something blue flash by in the corner of the windshield.

"Oh shit, my bike!"

He pulled the craft around, descending to let it hover close to the ground. Dust clouds swept all over the imploded cave site. There, just by the edge of collapsed rock, his baby blue Vespa Primavera stood neatly parked on reddish earth. Phew! Now he just needed something to tow it with, he trailed fingers over the keypad, maybe...

Metal tendrils reached out and cradled his blue baby, almost like ...paws? The mechanical arms lifted his moped off the ground. Lance grinned. He steered the ship toward the shack, full speed ahead.

" _Now_ I'm taking you home."

 **. . .**

Three people were not meant to be squished on a moped like this, but they _were_. Hunk scooted forward, closer to Lance, to give Pidge some space. For some reason Gunderson had insisted on sitting in the very back... Hunk worried the boy might fall off as Lance took them through another crazy turn.

Lance left the freeway in favor of some barely paved rural road. Dust clouds rose up around them. Hunk coughed into his helmet's visor, so grateful he was wearing his own custom made helmet, and not one of Lance's tiny narrow ones that cramped his ears to his skull.

"So where are we going?" Pidge cried over the wind.

"You'll see!" Lance shouted over the hum hum of the engine. He sat hunched over the steering bar, eyes on the road.

Hunk looked over Lance's black helmet at the desert stretching out before them. It was a desert; the vegetation got scarcer with each mile, and in the distance he could barely see any trees. Only low, yellowed and tough looking grasses grew here. When he started thinking of plants, his thoughts quickly drifted to fruit, vegetables... to pineapples on pizza, oven roasted eggplants, buttered corn sticks, french fries dipped in mustard, banana flambé, kiwi smoothies, strawberry sundaes.

His stomach grumbled. As per _Lance's_ request, he hadn't had a bite to eat at breakfast today. Hunk scowled. What on Earth could be so _urgent_ it would override his basic human needs?

Lance pulled up by a chain of rocks, took off his helmet and grinned at them over his shoulder. "That mission only failed because it was a simulation. In real life I'm a super good pilot."

Hunk felt the bike bounce as Pidge hopped off. The smaller cadet landed on his feet a few steps away, and with a snippy gesture handed Lance his blue helmet back.

Pidge rolled his eyes. "Okay Lance, whatever you say."

Before Lance could launch into yet _another_ argument with their new friend, Hunk placed a hand on Lance's shoulder. "What did you want to show us?"

Lance's eyes gleamed with something ranging from euphoria to certifiable insanity. Frankly speaking it scared Hunk more than a little... these last few weeks Lance had been... _unstable_ at best, and that was the nicest way to describe it. He worried because as much as he hated how Lance could be sometimes, he loved the guy. And not in a luv love kind of way, he wasn't attracted to him or anything, they just... got along so well it made his time at the Garrison a lot more bearable, and _fun_. He hated seeing Lance like this, like he was in pain, a pain that devoured his very mind.

"Come on," with a quick wave of his hand Lance scampered up a narrow stone path and disappeared behind two large boulders.

Hunk and Pidge exchanged a look.

"Should we ...uh _follow_ him?" Hunk asked eventually.

Pidge shrugged. "Might as well, we came all the way out here, so staying back would be a waste." His lips curled up in a smile. "Let's see what the big goofball has to show us."

Hunk smiled back. Together they walked up the path, Pidge in front, Hunk making up the rear. If this turned dangerous, he wanted to be as far from the menace as he could get. They rounded a corner and Pidge suddenly stopped moving. Hunk nearly bumped into him, stopping short of stumbling over the boy.

What? What could possibly...

All speech and coherent thought flew out the window. Lance stood in the shadow of a _shack_ mounted with a satellite dish, sun panels and a tangle of power cables. What _really_ drew his attention though was the gigantic red robot standing right next to the shack. What. The. Fuck.

Lance waved at them, keeping his hand high above his head, wearing a massive grin on his face. He looked like he could burst from joy any moment now. Hunk forced his jaw to close. In a daze he walked over to where Lance was bouncing up and down on the ground.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Lance practically screamed in his face.

Pidge was right behind him. "Is... is _that_ what I think it is?"

Lance made two guns with his hands and pointed them at Pidge. "If what you're thinking is a spaceship, then you're correct."

"Ha-how," Hunk stammered, "where did you get this?" He approached the ship so he could see its hull up close. The metal gleamed in the sun, like there wasn't a speck of dust on it. Which was technically impossible since it must have been standing here for awhile, in the middle of a sandy fucking desert.

He looked up at Lance. Pidge was also sending curious looks Lance's way.

Lance smiled awkwardly, before shrugging and side-stepping away from the shack. "Leh-eht's just say it's my spaceship ― I own it."

"Sure you do." Pidge sounded like he didn't believe a word that came out of Lance's mouth, and Hunk was inclined to think the same.

"Owwkayy, maybe it's more like I'm _borrowing_ it."

Gunderson's deadpan look was enough to scare two rabbits from fucking. "You stole a spaceship."

" _Stole?"_ Lance threw his arms up dramatically. _"Why_ does it always have to be _'stealing'_ , why can't I legitimately _own_ a spacecraft, _huh?_ Is it because I'm Hispanic, is it because I'm Cubano? Oh my God, I feel so _triggered_ right now!"

" _Lance_ , drop the theatrics."

Lance pouted. "But I'm so good at those."

"We _know."_

Hunk giggled into his fist. "What's up with the shack, man? This where you bring girls and shit?" Hunk eyed the rickety thing. One board looked so poorly hammered to the main frame that it would crack and fall any moment now.

He didn't miss the flush that bloomed on Lance's cheeks mere moments later. "What? No, the shack is hardly relevant here. Some hobo built it."

Hunk sent him a knowing look.

"Whatever, forget about the shack," Lance gestured at the huge chunk of metal, "there's a _spaceship_ standing right next to you."

Hunk scratched his chin. "When you said you're a super duper pilot in real life, you didn't mean..." he trailed off, looking from Lance to the craft and back at Lance. Hunk frowned when he saw Lance smirk. This... this was _not_ what Hunk wanted to hear, anything, _anything_ but this.

"I sure did," Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

Pidge spoke up. "Remember how he crashed our simulation fighter jet into the ground?"

Hunk nodded, "yeah."

"And how that wing got completely torn off?"

"Uh huh."

Pidge smiled. "How about we grab his bike and head back to the Garrison? I hear there's a nice diner along the road."

Hunk grinned. "Awesome."

"You _can't_ take my bike!" Lance's voice hiked up and turned into a squeak. He wrung his hands, his expression turned desperate. "You can't leave me stranded here in the desert without food or water, miles away from the closest town. Do you know how _cruel_ that is?"

Hunk puckered his lips and paused in his tracks, but Pidge only raised an eyebrow. "The brilliant _ass_ tronaut stuck in a desert right beside his fully operational high class spaceship."

"I _can't_ fly this thing to the Garrison!"

Pidge stopped by the rocks that hid the bike from view, and smirked. "Because you can't actually fly it."

" _Watch me,"_ Lance marched to the front of the vehicle and placed his hand on some panel.

Hunk frowned. Were they actually going through with this? He couldn't for the life of him picture Lance piloting a spacecraft this big. What bothered him most, this ship looked nothing like the Garrison ships in the flight simulations. He hoped its interior would be more similar.

A hatch door opened to reveal a set of glowing red and white stairs. Hunk stared inside, mesmerized by the glow.

Lance looked over his shoulder and waved. A contagious smile was on his lips. "Well what are you waiting for?" he yelled, jumping through the hatch. "Get on board."

Hunk exchanged a look with Pidge. "So do we... uh?"

Pidge shrugged. "Might as well. It's not like I've got anything better to do this Saturday," hands buried in his shorts he sauntered off to the hatch door.

After some moments ruminating, weighing the pros and cons, Hunk decided he'd rather feel a little motion sick than be left out of the main event. He couldn't help feeling curious about the craft... like, what alloy it was made of, what it looked like on the inside. He had so many questions.

So he swallowed down his fear and took brave steps toward the vehicle. He let Pidge go ahead of him through the hatch. Pidge climbed the steps two at a time, Hunk shambled up after him, bracing his hands on the walls since there were no railings to hold onto. They were still on the stairs when the engines kicked into gear, making the walls around them vibrate. Hunk gasped, he glanced over his shoulder and to his horror saw the hatch door close behind him. His last chance to get out of this... _gone_.

Something soft and warm enveloped his right hand that was braced on the wall. Hunk looked up at his hand, and blinked.

He shared a look with Pidge.

The other boy smiled at him warmly. It was such a genuine, supportive smile, Hunk felt his heart swell with courage.

They walked up the remaining steps with their hands locked; Hunk drew strength from it. The ship rattled and roared into life. Once inside the cockpit, Pidge let his hand go, and turned to the translucent red display screens set up around the windshield.

" _Wow_ ," Pidge gasped, bringing his face up close to the screens. "This technology is amazing... Lance, where'd you get this spacecraft?" he said without looking away from the screen.

Lance was already seated in the single pilot seat at the center of the cockpit, lounging casually, seatbelt fastened. "It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you some time."

Pidge blinked at the weird symbols that started popping up all over the screen. "And this ship... can go fast enough to reach orbit?"

Hunk looked at Lance. The cockpit jerked, which made the floor shudder. Hunk all but lost his footing before he spotted a bar along the wall and grabbed it. _Phew_.

Lance cracked his knuckles with a look of glee. "Bet I can fly us to the Moon and back!"

"Oh really now?" Pidge sounded sceptic. He lifted his face from the screen and shifted his glasses up his nose.

Hunk didn't like the wicked grin that formed on Lance's face. Before he could fully register what was happening, Lance had wrenched back a joystick, and the ship shot into the air.

Hunk shrieked, holding onto the bar with all his might. He saw Lance throw his head back and laugh, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

It wasn't like they were going too fast or anything. Considering where the ship was headed, its acceleration was surprisingly low... weren't spaceships supposed to go _faster?_ But the sudden jolt had startled Hunk, he had _not_ seen that coming. After all that talk about flying the ship, he had almost thought, alsmost _hoped_ this would turn out to be one of Lance's tall tales.

But _no_ , this was _real_. Hunk stared out the windshield and watched funny colored clouds drift by... he was doing it, he was actually getting to do it, the one thing he'd only dared dream about all his life... but never believed he'd ever get a chance to do.

He was going into space.

The ship climbed the heavens in smooth spiraling motions, as if it were floating on a stream of air, swimming through the atmosphere. Hunk felt a smile bloom on his lips when the ship burst through a thick layer of clouds and entered a realm of blue. They left the troposphere behind them, and the ship coasted over an ocean of fluffy white clouds.

Sparkling a dazzling light from above was the sun. It looked closer now than it had ever been, like they could easily cross the cloud sea over to it. Soon enough the world turned black around them, a fluorescent blue sheen came over the sea of clouds, the sun was a white flare amid the darkness. They were passing through the _ozone layer!_ Hunk was higher than any plane had ever taken him. Millions of little light specks flashed on around them... _stars_. He was seeing stars from the mesosphere, or was it the thermosphere? The craft sped away from the sun's blinding glare. Hunk stared at the darkness of space, the fullness of space, the black tissue of the universe. A reverent smile clung to his lips. There! They were definitely in the upper reaches of the Earth's atmosphere, for now he saw a small pastry colored circle in the distance. His stomach rumbled. That was, that had to be, the moon...

He heard a gasp right beside him and turned away from the vista. Pidge gaped through the windshield, he held onto the back of the pilot seat with one hand, and held his glasses in the other. Lance had a peaceful smile on his face, and was drinking in the view.

Pidge's high pitched voice broke the silence, "aren't we supposed to feel weightless now?"

Hunk blinked, looked at himself, then the floor, the walls of the cockpit, the vast vista of space before them... " _Yeah!_ What, what's happening?" he hated how his own voice tapered off at the end, all squeaky and insecure, like his voice was still breaking. He hadn't sounded like that in _years_. Aww _man_.

Lance sat up in his seat, frowning and scratching the back of his head. "Huh, good point."

The only logical conclusion could be... the words were out Hunk's mouth before he could bite his tongue: "unless this craft has artificial gravity technology."

Both Lance and Pidge turned to stare at him. Hunk felt heat pool in his cheeks... _okay_ maybe that was one of his lesser moments, _yeah_ probably. Lance shrugged and turned back to the windshield, hands on the joysticks. He quickly typed something into a control panel, and pressed his foot down on the right pedal. A wicked grin slid onto Lance's lips.

The craft swerved to the left, the floor tilted, and apparently so did the artificial gravity system. Hunk held on to the bar for dear life, dizzy with the motion. Pidge was knocked into the back of the pilot seat, ending up with both his arms wrapped around Lance's shoulders. His glasses had fallen into Lance's lap.

" _Jesus_ , Lance," Hunk gasped, glaring daggers at his friend, "at least give us a warning when you do that."

Lance laughed into the silent depths of space while Pidge grumpily reached around him and took back his glasses. The moon was coming closer. All previous thoughts fled Hunk's mind as he stared at the round pale rock before them. They traveled so fast, it barely took any time at all to get here. Up close the craters stood in stark contrast to the moon's surface, casting long blue shadows that tapered off into a pasty chalk white...

"Oh!" Hunk jumped up and down excitedly, "oh!" he felt like a child on a school excursion, raising his hand for permission, "can we land on the moon?"

Not letting go of the joysticks, with his foot on the gas, Lance pursed his lips. "Maybe next time," he said coolly.

Hunk dropped his arms with a pout. The craft flew all the way round, till they were in the moon's shadow. Everything turned several shades darker.

Pidge had stars in his eyes. "Next time I _have to_ bring my camera for this. The others at the Garrison are _not_ gonna believe me!"

Lance leaned back in the seat and cast a look over his shoulder. One of his brows was quirked, lips pulled in the smuggest of smirks. "You have to admit I'm a pretty good pilot."

Hunk smiled back faintly. "Well you _are_ a lot better than you were in the simulator," he tried carefully.

"It's not _my fault_ Ivysaur set the parameters _wrong!"_ Lance crossed his arms. He looked off to the side, brows furrowed in boiling anger. "I _so_ would have made it through that tunnel if it were the real deal."

Hunk cringed. "Sure buddy."

Taking the joysticks in his hands and turning his attention to the windshield, Lance mumbled, "he _hates_ me. Ever since I joined the Garrison, Commander Iverson has been nothing but mean to me." Lance narrowed his eyes, "the man plays favorites and it's not fair," he heaved a long sigh, then steered the spaceship down to Earth.

The cockpit shuddered upon re-entry to the Earth's atmosphere. Hunk braced himself, gritting his teeth and bending through the knees. Pidge hugged the back of the pilot seat, chin resting on Lance's shoulder, eyes wide shut. Red and orange clouds rushed by them, looking beautiful, a dangerous kind of beauty. But soon enough the vessel slowed down, till it was floating gracefully through a series of fluffy white candy floss clouds. Pidge rubbed at his eyes as though awaking from a dream. Hunk breathed a sigh of relief, then a massive happy all consuming smile clung to him: he had gone into space, into space! And come back, alive and breathing and well. He'd seen the _moon!_ Oh, he was _so_ gonna tweet about this tonight. Hunk grinned. All his friends at the Garrison and at his old school were gonna be sick jealous of him. Haha.

As they dipped below the clouds, a vast desert landscape came into view. The sky seemed blue here, clouds so high you could hardly see them. Hunk didn't know how Lance navigated the ship, how he knew exactly where to find that ramshackle old shack of his like a needle in a haystack, but they were right back where they started, flying above the shack, slowly descending. Hunk strained his eyes to see. From up here the shack had the size of a matchbox, so tiny. He frowned when he saw a smaller ant sized dot move around the shack. It had to be considerably big to be visible from up here, but what could it be?

Hunk's frown deepened when the spacecraft descended lower yet, and the dot grew in size. It no longer resembled an ant... was that... was it a person? Hunk stared out the windshield as more and more of this human came into view. He noticed they were looking up, at the sky, at the spacecraft! They must be looking at the craft. What else could they be looking at?

The person's arms were folded over their chest, legs a shoulder-width apart as they glared up at the sky ...they looked _angry_. Their short black hair whipped about their face, from the turbulence caused by the landing spaceship.

"Uh oh," Lance chuckled, drawing Hunk's attention. "Keith does _not_ look happy."

Hunk's jaw dropped. "Is that _Keith?"_

Pidge blinked, staring at the both of them. "Who's Keith?"

"This hot shot Fighter Class pilot Lance is always talking about."

Pidge nodded, "oh."

Lance whirled around in the pilot seat. "I do _not_ always talk about Keith!"

Hunk squeezed his eyes shut laughing. "Dude you so do. Your obsession with him is bordering on love."

An angered growl escaped Lance's throat.

Hunk turned to Pidge. "You see Lance has a little man crush on Keith."

Pidge frowned but still slowly bobbed his head.

"No! I don't."

Hunk giggled, "a _big_ man crush."

"I'm not listening." With a groan Lance turned to the controls and brought the craft down gently to the ground.

Hunk was the first to make it out the ship. He let out a wail of relief when his feet touched solid ground. Eyes closed, he drank in dry desert air, basking in the sunlight. Never thought he would miss it _that much_. The sweat dripping down his back didn't bother him, he was just so happy to _be alive_ , and have seen so much, have traveled so far, farther than he'd ever dreamt of going.

Pidge and Lance took their sweet time getting out of the craft, and when they did, Pidge was bombarding Lance with questions that Lance avoided answering. A proud smile was etched on Lance's face as he casually leaned against the ship's hull, hunching his back a little to bring his face closer to Pidge's height.

"Can we schedule a trip for next week? Then I can bring some equipment from the Garrison, there's so many things I'd like to check."

"No," a raspy voice said from behind before Lance could reply.

Everyone turned their heads. Keith stood there, looking disheveled as fuck in a jacket that had seen better days... The look on Keith's face was wild with anger. Hunk blinked at him as Keith took long heavy strides toward the spaceship, towards _them_.

"Why are you bringing randos from the Garrison here?" Keith barked, narrowing his eyes at Lance. "And flying our ship into space! What is wrong with you?"

Lance straightened up from his casual slouch, taking full advantage of the few inches he had on Keith. "They aren't _randos_ ," he huffed, "they're friends. Keith," he gestured at them with an open hand, "these are Hunk, my roommate, and Pidge, man who was recently assigned to my Flight Sim group."

For some odd reason Pidge squirmed and winced at the word _'man'_. Hunk pursed his lips, observing the kid, he supposed Pidge was still quite young... maybe he'd be more comfortable being called 'boy'?

Lance shrugged, eyes on Keith. "I was simply showing them around a _real_ spaceship, not one of those shitty simulations."

"You were showing _off."_

"What's wrong with that?"

An exasperated groan left Keith's lips. "Oh nothing," he waved his arms about dramatically, "maybe if you keep flying her out _into space_ , NASA will spot our _top secret_ spaceship on their satellites, and _we'll disappear_ mysteriously _just like Shiro!"_

Pidge's mouth fell open, he was about to say something but never got a chance before the sound of an engine drew everyone's attention. The group did a collective intake of breath when they saw the craft flying towards them in the sky.

"What... is _that?"_ Hunk whispered.

Lance shook his head. "I don't know."

"If you don't know, _why_ are you _answering?"_ Keith shot back, voice dry and irritated.

"Could be NASA," said Lance.

Keith groaned. "Why NASA?"

"Well who _else_ would it be?"

"Oh I don't know," Keith rolled his eyes at Lance, "the _Garrison_ maybe?"

Lance sent Keith a dirty look. Keith glared back.

"It's coming right at us," Pidge said to no one in particular.

When Lance spoke next, his voice had turned to steel, deep and drained of all emotion. "Everyone get inside the ship, now."

They didn't argue. One by one, four boys climbed up the steps to the cockpit. Pidge first, Hunk second, Keith third, and Lance last; he stayed back for as long as he could, staring out the hatch door till it shut, watching the unidentified ship move near.

Pidge's voice raised to a gasping squeak. " _Lance?_ They're accelerating, if they stay on course I reckon they'll _crash_ into us within the next five minutes."

Lance grit his teeth, he moved toward the pilot seat but Keith was ahead of him. Keith snapped the seatbelt on just as Lance touched his shoulder.

" _Keith_ , move your ass. _Let me fly!"_

Shrugging off the hand, Keith flicked a control panel. The engines growled a low resounding rumble. Keith placed his feet firmly on the pedals, and gripped the joysticks in shaky hands. Hunk watched him bite his lip. The enemy craft was real close.

"This is not the time to play hero!" Lance screamed into Keith's ear.

"Choke on your own advice," Keith muttered as he stared out the windshield, eyes locked on the incoming craft.

Hunk swallowed, his sweaty palms found the bar he'd held onto last ride, he winced and braced himself for impact. The craft got so close it took up the entire windshield. Then Keith hit gas. With a sudden burst of power their ship lurched to the side. Pidge was pressed into Lance, they both groaned.

" _Pidge_ , you're sitting on my face."

"Well _excuse_ _you_ , I can't help it your super special spaceship has only _one seat_."

Lance and Pidge scrambled up off the floor. Everyone's eyes locked on the windshield. The other ship took a sharp turn and pursued them again.

Hunk blinked. "How do they do that? A craft that big shouldn't switch course so easy." The enemy ship looked at least twice their size.

"Beats me," Pidge whispered from beside him, staring at the craft in awe.

Keith flew their ship low, skimming the desert surface. As the enemy ship disappeared from view, Lance walked up to a panel and punched in some numbers. A smaller screen above the windshield flickered to life, showing their rear view: the other ship was still following.

Hunk choked on his next breath when a tiny little missile broke from the enemy ship. "Uh _guys?_ Did you see that? I uhh I couldn't be the only one who saw that, right?"

"I'm _on it,"_ Keith growled. With a thrust of his leg he hit the pedal to the metal, sending them hurtling over the desert at breakneck speed.

Pidge and Lance were shoved against the back wall of the cockpit, out of reach of the controls. Hunk held onto the bar with all his might, wincing hard. Keith flew the craft in zig zags, but couldn't shake the missile that dutifully followed like a duckling.

Lance screamed: _"you're going to get us killed!"_

"Just," Keith breathed, knuckles turning white as he squeezed the life out of the joysticks, "trust me," he whimpered in a trembling voice that said he didn't trust himself.

Then Keith changed course and flew them directly at a wall. Lance crossed himself five times, Pidge shut his eyes, Hunk's jaw dropped, he watched the whole thing. Keith steered the ship into a cliff till they were just yards away, then pulled her up vertically into the sky.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Hunk repeated to himself as the missile collided with the cliff.

The rear view panel showed an explosion of flying boulders and dust. The missile had blown a whole cliff away. Hunk gulped, his tongue felt like wool in his mouth. The entire cliff was gone, _gone_.

"Okay that's definitely _not_ the Garrison," said Hunk, "we don't have the technology."

Keith nodded, "don't look like NASA either..." he brought the ship to a steady coast above the clouds, taking advantage of the flying debris, but before he could fully shake them, the other craft broke through the clouds. Keith tsked.

Pidge walked over to the front of the cockpit, a deep frown on his forehead as he kept his eyes trained on the rear view screen, and gripped the back of the pilot seat. "Maybe it's the Russians."

"Let's see how high these bastards can go," with a grunt Keith piloted the ship into space.

They should have shaken the enemy when they passed the ozone layer, but... for some reason they _didn't_. The enemy ship followed them undeterred, past the point where normal aircrafts were supposed to fly.

"Uh... guys?" Hunk gulped, "whoever they are, they're in a spaceship."

Pidge's jaw dropped, "no _way_..."

Keith's eyes were wide open. Everyone stared at the rear view screen.

Lance leaned in close, one hand braced on the back of Keith's chair. "This might be a wild guess, but I'm getting the weird feeling that ship might be ...alien."

Alien? Hunk and Keith and Pidge all turned to look at Lance, whose eyes were glued to the enemy ship. The fear in Lance's eyes struck Hunk and shook him to the core. This wasn't a game nor a simulation, there was no second shot at this, no next try... Game over meant game over, he was stuck in a real life Space RPG and he only had one life.

Pidge's nervous voice broke through the depressing spiral Hunk's thoughts had taken: "maybe we can contact them? Tell them we're friendly," he moved about the cockpit, brushing his fingers over the walls. "This ship _must_ have a communications device."

Hunk blinked at the boy. "Oh because space aliens from Mars certainly speak English."

"Worth a shot."

Lance shared a look with Hunk, then helped Pidge find the communications device. A new screen appeared to the windshield's right. The screen was a blank subdued purple, at first... then something, or rather _someone_ came into view. Hunk silently slid behind Lance, and peeked over his shoulder.

One thing was obvious: whoever this was, they _weren't_ human. A violet face peered back at them with narrowed yellow eyes. Hunk nearly wet himself. The... the 'person' had furry cat ears, purple sideburns and _fangs_ , fucking fangs. The man wore some space suit without a helmet, and glared menacingly at them.

"We come in peace," said Lance.

The guy just stared at them. Lance was about to repeat himself when the alien opened his jaw, revealing a jagged set of teeth. "Give us the Red Lion," he mouthed in perfect English, with a slight American accent.

"Oh wow," Hunk whispered, "they _do_ speak English."

Pidge frowned. "Red... lion? What do they mean?"

The alien resumed talking, and everyone inside the cockpit held still to listen. "You have stolen our ship. We want it back."

Keith threw his head back, shut his eyes and groaned. "I _knew_ we shouldn't have taken the ship. I _knew it_."

The alien scowled at Keith.

"Wait," Lance shouted, drawing the alien's attention, "we didn't know it was yours, sorry! We just found it underground, in a cave. And then the whole cave exploded, and boarding the ship was the only way to survive."

Hunk stared at Lance... how long had this been going on? He was uncovering a whole new side to Lance. No wonder he talked about Keith so much, Hunk couldn't even begin to fathom everything they must've been through together.

"We didn't want to take your ship, honest. I swear on my Mom's life, we'll give it back to you. Will you stop attacking us when you get it back?"

"Yes."

Lance breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagged and his chest deflated. "Okay then," he said in a smaller voice, wobbling over his words, "we're landing the ship on Earth, getting out of it, and you can have it. Just... hold your fire, _please."_

"That is fine."

And just like that, communications closed: the purple backdrop fizzled out and the screen went black. It was silent in the cockpit as everyone seemed to be mulling over what just happened.

Lance gently touched Keith's shoulder and gave the order: "fly us back to your house."

Without hesitating Keith plunged the ship through the atmosphere. The alien ship followed them, keeping their distance. Like they said they would, the aliens didn't attack. Hunk breathed a little easier. They were getting out of this, out of this dumb crazy stupid insane adventure, he would sleep it all off in his dorm tonight and forget all about it. _Aliens?_ Ha!

A thoughtful expression crossed Keith's face. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Since when do _you_ ever listen to _'feelings'?"_ he air quoted.

"It's ...strange," Keith bit his lip, like he was weighing the pros and cons of sharing his thoughts. "This might sound crazy but I think the ship is ... _talking to me?_ Think it's trying to tell me something."

Lance cut him off. "The _spaceship_ is _talking_ to you? No way!" he laughed, "Keith, it's a _machine_ , not a sentient being."

Seconds later the cockpit shook violently. Hunk managed to grab the bar in time, Pidge held onto the pilot seat, Lance was not so lucky: he fell flat on his ass with a squeak.

" _Hey!"_ Lance pointed at Keith, "you did that on purpose!" he winced and rubbed his tailbone.

"I didn't do a thing." Keith turned in the seat and held up his hands. "My hands aren't even holding the joysticks," he raised his legs in the air, "my feet aren't even touching the pedals."

Lance tried to get up. The cockpit went through a new shudder, knocking him back down.

"The spaceship did that," Hunk muttered to himself.

Everyone turned to look at Hunk, and as though in response, a low rumble like a purr spread through the cockpit. Hunk's heart did a flip flop.

"Did you just hear _that?"_ Pidge asked him in a small voice.

"I think everyone heard it."

Lance gasped, "the ship ...is sentient?"

Keith's eyes were impossibly wide. Lance's jaw dropped to the floor. Pidge had a far off, dreamy expression on his face. All starry eyed, he babbled: "It's an AI, artificial intelligence! The first ever intelligent robot on Earth."

Hunk forced a smile to his lips and looked about the cockpit. "Uh, hi?" he said with a little wave of his hand.

The ship responded with a short, loud roar. Hunk felt it roll through him, the energy, the fire, the joy. This robot ship, whatever it was, was _alive_. A massive grin lit up Hunk's face, he was _talking_ , communicating with an actual AI. He felt all giddy inside as a list of things to ask went through his head: what would you ask a robot, a robot that could think? Keith's raspy voice put an end to his frivolous thoughts and his excitement as they dragged him back to bleak reality:

"Guys, I think the ship is trying to tell me something... sounds like a warning."

Everyone looked at Keith.

"I'm getting the feeling she doesn't want to end up in the hands of those aliens. The ship is telling me not to land."

Hunk frowned. As much as he enjoyed talking to a sentient spaceship, he'd much rather be back in his dorm at the Garrison, where it was safe and warm. He wished he could cuddle up under the blankets with Mr. Snuggles and forget this day ever happened. Those aliens had given them a way out, and Hunk craved that Blue Pill like never before.

"We don't have a choice," Hunk said, drawing everyone's attention. "If we don't hand over the ship, we'll be fried alive."

Three grim faces stared back at him. Pidge nodded, pursing his lips. But Keith squared his shoulders, looked away from Hunk and ran his fingers over the control panels.

"I think this ship has some defence mechanism it wants me to activate."

Lance scrambled to his feet, "hold on, keep piloting, I'll find it."

Keith shot him a frown. "Do you even know where to look?"

" _Ugh_. Look, you're better at piloting, so just do that."

Keith smirked. "So I _am_ a better pilot than _you_ ," he said coyly, "why didn't you just say so?"

Lance growled; before he could say a word, Keith pivoted the ship and sent her soaring into space. It took a while for the aliens to catch on, but when they did, they were back at it full force, chasing them relentlessly. Keith flew the ship in a myriad of turns, zig zagging her all the way through the atmosphere. The aliens followed, flying in loops, not at all bothered by Keith's erratic flight style. Hunk's breath caught in his throat when he saw the missile break free from the alien ship. Heart beating at a million miles an hour, this was it, they were toast.

" _Lance_ ," Pidge breathed, " _any_ time now."

"Ahh, I think I've got it," came Lance's shaky voice in reply.

"You _think?"_ Keith yelled into the cockpit that felt more and more suffocating, as though their oxygen was slowly being depleted, leaking away through a thousand little holes. "Less thinking, more _doing!"_ Keith swerved the craft into another crazy turn.

And the missile turned _with_ them. Pidge had tears in his eyes, Keith looked like a ghost, Lance's fingers were shaking as he grabbed a handle and pressed several buttons at once. Hunk thought of his middle school sweetheart one last time.

The explosion that followed shook the walls of the cockpit. Hunk barely held on to the bar, Pidge was thrown off his feet, colliding into a wall, Lance hit his head against Keith's knee. Moments passed in shocked silence, then Hunk blinked. They were still alive. Still alive! He looked for the missile on the rear view screen... it was nowhere to be found.

"I think you hit it," Pidge said cautiously, standing up and dusting his shorts.

Hunk had never seen a prouder smile on Lance's lips. "Heck _yeah_ I did!" he pumped the air with his fist, then added in a quieter voice: "but what... _was_ that?"

" _Doesn't matter,"_ said Keith, pointing at the rear view screen. "Look! They're doing _something_ , and it _does not_ look good."

Everyone refocused on the rear screen. Hunk's jaw dropped, the smile fell from Lance's face. Something small was _glowing_ on the surface of the enemy ship. The little ball of pure energy slowly got larger and _larger_ until it spread out from the ship and blasted their way.

"Laser beams..." Pidge whispered as he watched the bolt of energy get closer.

" _Duck!"_ Lance screamed seconds before impact.

Hunk jumped to the floor, covering Pidge with his body. Keith lifted his feet off the pedals and rolled into fetal position. Lance ducked under the control panels. The whole cockpit shook and _groaned_. It sounded like the ship was in real physical pain. A deafening _roar_ went through Hunk's bones, he grit his teeth, holding Pidge's hand in his sweaty ones. The lights flickered. Keith reached out to the joysticks, but the ship wouldn't respond to his steering.

Keith and Lance shared a look.

Lance nodded, and crawled out from under the controls. He grabbed hold of the handle, typed a series of commands into a panel, and turned the handle.

A flurry of lights appeared on the rear view screen. But these lights were heading the other way. From their place on the cockpit floor, Hunk and Pidge watched the laser beams crash into the aliens' force shield, leaving the ship unharmed...

"Uh _Lance?"_ Pidge said, "Hate to state the obvious, but this _isn't_ working."

"At least it'll hold them off for awhile. _Keith?_ A little fancy flying would be great right about now."

They blasted off into the darkness of space, Keith jamming the gas pedal, Lance firing shot after shot at their pursuers. Still the alien ship remained in the rear view screen, growing ever so closer by the minute.

Hunk gasped, covering his mouth with a hand. " _Bloody nachos_ , they're gaining on us. _Keith_ , go faster!"

"I _can't_ , already have this craft at full speed."

Without taking his eyes off target, Lance spoke under his breath: "Thought I saw an optional booster drive somewhere... could probably make it work with a new command sequence."

Pidge wrung his hands. "Then _do it!"_

"Can't operate the laser beam _and_ type the command _at the same time_. That control panel is like on the opposite side of the cockpit. _Keith_ is in the way!"

Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance.

"Then let me do it," Pidge said, walking up to the controls. "Which one is it?"

Lance blinked, looking at Pidge from the corner of his eye. "Umm, the one to your left, yeah, that one."

In no time at all, Pidge was all business, his glasses inches away from the touchscreen as he studied the weird letters there. "What do I type?"

"I think it's the weird infinity symbol, followed by a square, then a circle and then the hieroglyph resembling a dragonfly."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Pidge said, banging his fingers on the screen.

"I don't know," Lance shrugged, "I just do ...?"

The enemy craft was very close now, very close. Hunk gulped. "Eh _guys_ , hurry up."

"Right!" Pidge pressed a button, the ship gave a loud roar, then, as everyone held their breath, the boosters engaged, doubling their speed. Just like that they blasted away from those aliens, deep into space, away from Earth, straight into an asteroid belt.

"Wow... it _worked_ ," Keith whispered in awe as he maneuvered the ship around giant space rocks.

Letting go of the laser beam, Lance leaned back on his elbows, tilted his head and smirked up at Keith. "Course it worked."

Pidge stared at him. "Your understanding of alien tech is seriously disturbing. Are you an alien?"

"What?" Lance blinked at Pidge, then vehemently shook his head. " _No!"_

Hunk sat down on the floor next to his friend. "But you knew the exact command sequence we needed... how?"

"I told you!" Lance winced, "it was just a hunch."

Keith stared out the windshield, joysticks firmly gripped in his hands. "Tsk. Wormhole up ahead."

Lance whipped his head to the windshield. " _Wormhole?"_

"Wormhole," Keith confirmed.

Hunk stared and stared at the portal before them. "Holy fish fingers on a stick... that's a wormhole..."

"It opened up right in front of us," Keith said, "moments ago."

Pidge scratched his skull. "For some reason... wormholes looked a lot cooler in my head."

Hunk tilted his head. "Same."

"What?" Lance squeaked, "it does have that nice psychedelic glow to it."

"Hmm..." Hunk rubbed his chin, "ok, when you put it _that_ way."

Pidge lifted and dropped one shoulder. "I guess I can appreciate the aesthetic."

"Should we go through it?" said Keith.

They all shared looks.

"It could be a trap," Pidge said, "those aliens leading us into their territory... _or_ a one way ticket into a very unstable part of space."

Hunk twiddled his thumbs. "But if we _don't_ go through it, that alien ship is going to catch up to us, sooner or later, and they're _not_ gonna be happy."

Pidge frowned back at Hunk, they got lost in a staring contest so Hunk hardly noticed when Keith spoke up again. "Lance, what do you think?"

Wide eyed, Lance gaped at Keith. "Me?"

"Well yeah," Keith sounded a little awkward when he said it, like he was embarrassed or something. "What do you think we should do?"

Lance took a deep steadying breath. A decisive frown crumpled his face, his voice had a cold finality to it. "Keith, take us through that wormhole."

Pidge broke eye contact with Hunk to glare defiantly up at Lance. "But what if it's a trap?"

"Then we'll deal with it later. Hunk is right, if we stay here we'll be dead meat. There's no way to tell what's on the other end of that wormhole, but we'll have to take the risk."

Pidge nodded reluctantly.

"Ok, I'm going in." Keith steered them toward the wormhole.

"Hold on tight," Lance said through grit teeth.

Pidge, Lance and Hunk grabbed the pilot seat and hoped for the best.


End file.
